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POPULAR  HI  STORY 

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UNITED  STATES 


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GEORGE    WASHINGTON. 


Barnes'  Popular  History 

of  the  United  States 

of  America 


BY 


Joel  Dorman  Steele,  Ph.D.,  F.G.S: 
and  Esther    Baker    Steele,    Lit.  D. 


E    y  I  S   E    D      EDITION 


From  Prehistoric  America 
to   the    Present    Time 

rriTH    MANY    ILLUSTRATIONS 


VOLUME   I 


NEW  YORK 

A.   S.    BARNES   &   COMPANY 

MCMIV 


£178 

.5» 


Copyright  1875,  1878,  1895,  1900,  1902,  1903,  and  1904, 
By  a.  S.  BARNES  &   CO. 


PREFACE  TO  THE  NEW  EDITION. 


nPHE  year  1904,  bringing  as  it  does  the  celebration  of  the  great 
expansion  of  our  country  involved  in  the  Louisiana  Purchase,  is  an 
obviously  opportune  time  for  presenting  a  new  and  revised  edition 
of  this  standard  History  of  the  United  States  designed  for  popular 
reading. 

Barnes'  History  has  been  found  to  fill  a  want  not  supplied  by  brief, 
didactic  text-books  on  the  one  hand,  or,  on  the  other  by  cumbersome 
and  expensive  sets  of  volumes,  which,  moreover,  have  in  many  cases 
treated  only  of  special  periods. 

In  this  History  there  is  told  in  convenient  form  the  story  of  our 
country  from  the  prehistoric  America  of  the  Mound  Builders  to  the  treaty 
with  Panama,  the  preparations  for  the  long  delayed  Isthmian  canal  and 
the  launching  of  the  Louisiana  Purchase  Exposition  at  St.  Louis.  It  is  a 
narrative  full  of  human  interest  as  well  as  instruction,  proving  again  that 
history  may  offer  attractions  more  inviting  than  those  of  fiction. 

At  this  time  particularly  there  is  an  impatience  with  the  purely  critical 
treatment  of  historical  themes.  Certain  of  our  broader  minded  historians 
have  themselves  complained  that  research  has  killed  imagination  and  the 
critical  spirit  has  smothered  the  human  interest  which  a  history  should 
have  if  it  is  to  convey  a  picture  of  life.  Such  an  interest  pervades  the 
pages  of  Barnes'  History.  It  affords  a  convenient,  accessible  and  easily 
read  story  of  our  country's  evolution,  and  in  these  crowded  and  strenuous 
days  this  new  edition  will,  it  is  believed,  be  found  to  have  a  usefulness 
and  value  immediate  and  universal. 


221747 


PREFACE. 


fOUR  centuries  ago,  it  was  not  known  that  the  earth  is  round,  much 
less  that  so  vast  an  ocean  awaited  a  Columbus  and  a  new  con- 
tinent a  Cabot.  North  America  was  then  a  wilderness,  and  its 
inhabitants  were  savages.  The  story  of  its  marvelous  development 
is  now  to  open  before  us.  It  will  be  ours  to  tell  it,  not  in  a  dull,  dry-as-dust 
style,  but  with  somewhat  of  the  earnestness  of  the  men  who  cut  down  the 
primeval  forest ;  and  the  fire  of  the  soldiers  who  first  subdued  the  heathen 
possessor  and  at  last  drove  out  the  British  invader.  We  shall  find  every  hard 
fact  to  be  brightened  with  the  romance  of  real  life,  than  which  nothing  is 
more  stirring,  and  every  era  of  our  history  to  be  full  of  patriotic  devotion  and 
heroic  endeavor.  Looking  back  from  our  standpoint  of  the  years,  we  shall 
see  plain  men  of  many  nationalities  working  on,  all  unconsciously  laying 
the  foundation  of  a  new  empire  ;  yet,  under  the  guidance  of  a  Hand  reached 
down  from  above,  building  wiser  than  they  knew,  and  establishing  a  home  for 
liberty — civil  and  religious — its  first  in  the  wide  world. 

America  was  discovered  just  at  the  close  of  the  fifteenth  century.  The 
sixteenth  was  spent  in  numerous  explorations  and  attempts  by  the  Spanish, 
the  English,  and  the  French  to  settle  and  get  possession  of  this  splendid  prize 
of  a  continent.  The  seventeenth  century  was  one  of  colonization.  It  wit- 
nessed the  establishment  of  all  the  thirteen  colonies  except  Georgia.  Re- 
ligious and  political  refugees  flocked  to  this  fair  land  of  promise.  The 
advance  guard  of  civilization  planted  its  standard  from  the  "  River  of  May  '* 
on  the  south  to  the  "  Great  River  of  Canada  "  on  the  north.  The  Cavalier 
found  a  home  on  the  Potomac,  the  Puritan  on  Cape  Cod,  the  Huguenot  on 
the  Cooper,  and  the  Quaker  on  the  Delaware.  With  a  strange  misappre- 
hension of  the  extent  of  the  territor}'  bestowed,  and  a  curious  jealousy  of 
rival  nations,  all  the  English  grants  extended  westward  from  the  Atlantic  to 
the  Pacific,  the  French  southward  from  the  St.  Lawrence  to  the  Gulf,  and  the 
Spanish  northward  from  the  Gulf  to  the  Arctic  Ocean.  Nearly  three-quarters 
of  the  eighteenth  century  was  occupied  in  crystallizing  the  scattered  settle- 
ments  into  colonies  regularly  organized  and  governed,  and  in  the  struggles 
of  the  English  to  get  control  of  the  continent. 


PREFACE. 

This  preparatory  work  was  the  ante-natal  growth  of  the  republic  which 
was  born  July  4,  1776.  It  is  therefore  treated  in  the  Introduction  as  a  neces- 
sary prelude  to  the  Hundred  Years  of  American  Independence. 

This  relation  of  great  colonial  contests  is  followed  by  a  chapter  on  the 
manners  and  customs  of  "  y®  olden  tyme."  Here  are  portrayed  the  curious  laws, 
the  quaint  habits,  and  the  strange  attire,  which  have  now  all  passed  away. 

Part  II.,  embracing  the  Revolutionary  War,  begins  the  book  proper.  Here 
will  be  found  a  narrative  of  those  years  of  waiting  and  sacrifice  during  which 
the  nation  achieved  its  independence.  The  battles  are  described  with  unusual 
fulness,  as  becomes  these  centennial  times  and  the  interest  every  locality  will 
naturally  possess  in  the  events  of  its  own  neighborhood.  Anecdotes  and  inci- 
dents illustrative  of  the  feelings  of  the  day  are  freely  interspersed.  Accurate 
maps  and  diagrams  enable  the  reader  to  trace  easily  every  campaign,  while  a 
calendar  indicates  the  important  events  of  every  day  throughout  the  eventful 
struggle. 

Part  III.  covers  the  Constitutional  History  of  the  country,  embracing  the 
formation  of  the  Constitution  and  the  gradual  development  of  the  nation 
down  to  i860.  This  is  detailed  in  four  chapters  of  two  decades  each,  indi- 
cating as  many  different  stages  of  growth  and  characteristic  ideas.  It  has 
two  great  episodes  :  the  war  of  18 12-14,  which  secured  for  the  young  Repub- 
lic the  respect  of  foreign  nations  ;  and  the  war  with  Mexico,  which  gave  to  it 
New  Mexico  and  California,  and  let  the  tides  of  emigration  pour  into  the  El 
Dorado  of  the  West. 

Part  IV.  treats  of  the  Civil  War,  which  resulted  in  the  abolition  of  slavery 
and  the  centralization  of  the  governing  power. 

Part  V.  narrates  the  important  events  which  have  occurred  since  the 
close  of  the  civil  war. 

In  preparing  this  story  of  our  past,  no  pains  have  been  spared  to  gather 
the  best  material  from  every  source.  The  most  reliable  authorities  have 
been  consulted,  recent  investigations  have  been  examined,  and  the  ripest 
fruits  of  historical  research  have  been  carefully  gathered. 

It  has  seemed  that  a  narrative  so  full  of  picturesque  incident  and  roman- 
tic adventure,  should  sweep  the  reader  along  as  by  a  charm  and  a  fascination  ; 
that  a  history  so  pregnant  with  pure  thought  and  high  endeavor,  should 
awaken  the  sympathy  and  arouse  the  ambition  of  the  most  sluggish  ;  and  that 
a  freedom  which  has  cost  so  much  sweat  of  brain  and  blood,  so  much 
treasure  of  money  and  life,  should  grow  inexpressibly  precious.  Thus  may  the 
outcome  of  this  fresh  attempt  to  tell  the  story  of  our  Independence  be  a  rruer 
reverence  for  the  past,  a  purer  patriotism  for  the  present,  and  a  more  hopeful 
outlook  for  the  future. 


T^BLE    op    CONTENTS. 


■^^i^S8C'^^S><2^ 


PART   I -IHTRODUCTIOH, 


CHAPTER   I. 

EARLY   HISTORY   OF  AMERICA. 

Prehistoric  Peoples — The  Mound  Builders — The  North  American  Indians — In-  pac« 
dian  Dialects — Indian  Picture-Writing — Manners  and  Customs  of  the  Indians 
— Discovery  of  America — The  Northmen — The  Problem  of  the  Age — Geo- 
graphical Knowledge  in  the  Fifteenth  Century — Christopher  Columbus — His 
Expedition — The  Voyage — The  New  World  Discovered — The  Return  to 
Spain — Subsequent  Voyages  of  Columbus — Death  of  Columbus — ^The  Ca- 
bots — Vasco  de  Gama — Amerigo  Vespucci— The  New  World  Named 9-26 

CHAPTER  II. 

EXPLORATIONS  AND   SETTLEMENTS. 

Ponce  de  Leon — Balboa  Discovers  the  Pacific  Ocean — Discovery  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi— French  Explorations — Verazzani — Cartier  Discovers  the  St.  Law- 
rence— Coligny  Plans  a  Colony — Ribaut  Lands  at  Port  Royal — Failure  of 
the  Colony  and  its  Fate — Laudonni^re  Ascends  the  St.  John's  River — 
Founding  of  St.  Augustine — Cruelty  of  Melende?^— English  Explorations 
and  Settlements — Frobisher — Drake  in  the  Pacim: — Sir  Humphrey  Gilbert 
— Sir  Walter  Raleigh  Secures  the  Patent  of  Virginia — The  Colony  of 
Roanoke — Settlement  of  Virginia — Captain  John  Smith — Virginia  in  the  Sev- 
enteenth Century — Settlement  of  Maryland — Settlement  of  Plymouth  Colony 
— The  Pilgrims — Settlement  of  Massachusetts  Bay— Religious  Disturbances 
— Roger  Williams  Banished — Union  of  the  Colonies — Difficulties  with  the 
Indians — Salem  Witchcraft — Settlement  of  Connecticut — Settlement  of  New 
York — New  Netherland — The  Redemptioners — Minuits  Purchases  Man- 
hattan Island — Administration  of  Governor  Stuyvesant — New  York  Sur- 
rendered to  the  English — Death  of  Leisler — Berkeley  and  Carteret  Found 
New  Jersey — Settlement  of  Pennsylvania — William  Penn — Settlement  of  the 
Carolinas — Charleston  Founded — The  Huguenots — Settlement  of  Georgia — 
Savannah  Founded — Contests  with  the  Spaniards 27-66 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   III. 

COLONIAL  WARS. 

New  France — ^The  Jesuit  Missionaries  and  their  Labors — Champlain — Mar-  fam 
quette — La  Salle — French  Settlements  in  the  Seventeenth  Century — King 
William's  War — Atrocities  of  the  Indians — The  Attack  on  Schenectady— 
Descents  on  Haverhill  and  Deerfield — French  Policy  in  the  West — Wash- 
ington's Journey  to  Fort  le  Bceuf— His  Return  and  its  Perils — Capitula- 
tion of  Fort  Necessity — The  Proposed  Confederation — Defeat  of  Braddock 
— Conquest  of  Acadia — Crown  Point — Reduction  of  Fort  William  Henry 
— Fort  du  Quesne  Captured  by  the  English — Louisburg  Retaken — Wolfe 
Lays  Siege  to  Quebec — Capture  of  Quebec — Death  of  Wolfe  and  Mont- 
calm— Conspiracy  of  Pontiac — The  Long  Struggle  Cements  the  Colonies.       67-83 

CHAPTER  IV. 

COLONIAL  LIFE. 

The  Colonies — Their  Extent  and  Population — Agriculture — Manufactures- 
Commerce — Scarcity  of  Money — The  First  Mint — The  Pine-Tree  Money — 
Introduction  of  the  Printing-Press — Mode  of  Travel — The  Postal  System 
— Progress  of  Education — Founding  of  Yale  College — Free  Schools  Estab- 
lished— Education  in  New  York — Education  in  the  South — Colleges  at  the 
Opening  of  the  Revolution — New  England  in  the  Seventeenth  Century — 
Manners  and  Customs — Modes  of  Punishment — Early  Meeting-Houses — 
A  Puritan  Sabbath — Fast  and  Thanksgiving  Days — A  Thanksgiving  in 
Connecticut — The  Houses  of  Early  Times — Family  Life — Social  Distinc- 
tions— Training-Day — Dress  and  Jewelry — Sumptuary  Laws — Wages — 
Manners  and  Customs  of  the  Dutch — Colonial  Life  in  the  South 84-130 


PART  II  — THB  WAR  OF  THB  RBYOLUTIOH. 


CHAPTER  I. 

ALIENATION  OF  THE  COLONIES. 

Injustice  of  England  toward  the  Colonies— Arbitrary  Restrictions  Imposed  on 
Commerce  and  Manufactures— Taxation  of  the  Colonies  Proposed— Writs 
of  Assistance— The  Stamp  Act— Speech  of  Patrick  Henry— The  Mutiny 
Act— Opposition  and  Excitement  of  the  People— Resistance  in  North 
Carolina— Franklin  before  the  House  of  Commons — General  Gagt  arrives 
in  Boston— The  Boston  Massacre— The  Regulators  Defeated  at  Alamance 
Creek— Tea  Destroyed  at  Boston— Retaliatory  Measures  Adopted— Com- 
mittees of  Correspondence  Appointed— Meeting  of  the  First  Continental 
Congress— State  of  the  Country I3I-I45 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTb. 

CHAPTER  II. 

OPENING  OF  THE  WAR. 

Movements  in  Boston — Lexington  and  Concord — Gathering  of  the  Militia — ^Tke  pag» 
British  Flight  to  Charlestown — Assembling  of  Troops  at  Cambridge — 
Ethan  Allen  Captures  Ticonderoga — Meeting  of  the  Second  Continental 
Congress — Reinforcement  of  the  British  at  Boston — Martial  Law  Declared 
— Bunker  Hill  Occupied— The  Preparations  for  Defence — Battle  of  Bun- 
ker Hill— Results  of  the  Battle— Effect  of  the  Battle  on  the  Patriots- 
Washington  Assumes  Command  of  the  Army — Number  and  Condition  of 
the  Troops  at  Cambridge— Boston  Besieged— Events  Elsewhere— Affairs 
in  New  York  and  the  Carolinas— Foreign  Mercenaries  Sought  by  England 
— Arnold's  Expedition  against  Quebec— Siege  of  Quebec — Death  of  Mont- 
gomery— Canada  Abandoned 146-165 


CHAPTER  III. 

INDEPENDENCE  YEAR— 1776. 

Condition  of  the  Army — The  British  Evacuate  Boston — Movements  in  North 
Carolina — The  Attack  on  Fort  Moultrie — Thomas  Paine  Espouses  the 
Cause — Declaration  of  Independence — Popular  Rejoicing  in  Philadelphia 
— Appearance  of  the  British  before  New  York — Battle  of  Long  Island — 
The  Retreat  from  Long  Island — Execution  of  Nathan  Hale— Occupation  of 
Harlem  Heights— Operations  in  the  Highlands— Fort  Washington  Taken 
by  the  British— The  Retreat  through  New  Jersey— Capture  of  General  Lee 
— Barbarities  of  the  Hessians— The  Campaign  in  Pennsylvania— Battle  of 
Trenton — State  of  the  Finances— Robert  Morris 166-IQ5 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THIRD   YEAR  OF  THE  REVOLUTION— 1777. 

The  Campaign  in  New  Jersey — Battle  of  Princeton — Renewed  Hopes  of  the 
Patriots — Franklin  as  Commissioner  to  France  and  his  Success — Lafayette 
espouses  the  American  Cause — England  secures  Hessian  Auxiliaries — 
British  Plan  of  Campaign  for  1777 — Evacuation  of  Fort  Ticonderoga — 
Battle  of  Oriskany — Origin  of  American  Flag — Relief  of  Fort  Schuyler — 
Battle  of  Bennington — Death  of  Jane  McCrea — First  Battle  of  Saratoga — 
Second  Battle  of  Saratoga — Death  of  General  Eraser — Surrender  of  Bur- 
goyne — Narrative  of  Madame  Riedesel — The  Campaign  in  Pennsylvania 
— Battle  of  Brandywine — Massacre  at  Paoli — Battle  of  Germantown — 
Events  about  New  York — Depredations  of  the  British  in  Connecticut — 
Capture  of  General  Prescott — Burning  of  Kingston,  N.  Y. — Capture  of 
Fort  Mercer — Washington  encamps  at  Valley  Forge 196-246 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  V. 

FOURTH   YEAR  OF  THE   REVOLUTION— 1778. 

Camp  at  Valley  Forge— Battle  of  the  Kegs— Light-Horse  Harry— Demoraliza-  pagb 
tion  of  the  People — Demoralization  of  the  Army — Intrigues  against  Wash- 
ington— The  Conway  Cabal — Arrival  of  Baron  Steuben — Alliance  with 
France — Efforts  at  Conciliation — Battle  of  Monmouth — Heroism  of  Mary 
Pitcher — Attempt  to  Recover  Rhode  Island — Massacre  at  Wyoming — 
Operations  in  the  West — Indian  Atrocities  in  New  York — The  Johnsons 
and  the  Six  Nations — Operations  in  the  South — Capture  of  Savannah  by 
the  British — Exploits  of  Sergeant  Jasper 247-269 

CHAPTER  VI. 

FIFTH   YEAR  OF  THE  REVOLUTION— 1779. 

Campaign  in  Georgia  and  South  Carolina — British  Depredations  in  South 
Carolina — Operations  in  New  York  and  Connecticut — General  Putnam  at 
Horse  Neck — Capture  of  Stony  Point — Capture  of  Paulus  Hook — Expe- 
dition against  Fort  Castine — Battle  of  Chemung — Subjugation  of  the  Six 
Nations — Attack  upon  Savannah — Exploit  of  Colonel  White — Operations 
of  the  American  Navy — Paul  Jones — Capture  of  the  Serapis 270-282 

CHAPTER  VII. 

SIXTH   YEAR  OF  THE  REVOLUTION— 1780. 

Depression  of  the  Country — Siege  and  Surrender  of  Charleston — Subjugation 
of  South  Carolina — Partisan  Warfare  in  the  Carolinas — Exploits  of  Marion 
and  his  Men — Operations  of  Tarleton — Patriotism  of  Nancy  Hart — Sum- 
ter's Attack  at  Hanging  Rock — General  Gates  assumes  Command  in  the 
South— His  Defeat  at  Camden — Death  of  DeKalb — Battle  of  King's 
Mountain — Activity  of  Marion  and  Sumter — Operations  around  New 
York — Knyphausen  in  the  Jerseys — Treason  of  Benedict  Arnold — Trial 
and  Execution  of  Major  Andre — Adventure  of  John  Champe — Arrival  of 
Reinforcements  from  France 283-305 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  LAST   YEAR  OF  THE  REVOLUTION— 1781. 

Disaffection  of  the  Continental  Troops — Robert  Morris  appointed  Financial 
Agent — General  Greene  assumes  Command  in  the  South — Battle  of  Cow- 
pens — Patriotism  of  Elizabeth  Steele — Battle  of  Guilford  Court-House — 
Emily  Geiger — Execution  of  Colonel  Hayne — Arnold  Invades  Virginia — 
British  Detestation  of  Arnold — Comwallis  in  Virginia — Events  Elsewhere 
— Siege  of  Yorktown — Surrender  of  Cornwallis — End  of  the  War — With- 
drawal of  the  British  Army — Washington's  Farewell  to  the  Army 306-324 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 


PART  III —THE  COKSTITUTIOHAL  PERIOD^ 


CHAPTER   IX. 

THE  DEVELOPMENT  OT  THE  REPUBLIC. 

Condition  of  the  Country  at  the  Close  of  the  War — Conflict  of  Interests  between  9Msa 
the  States — Meeting  of  the  Constitutional  Convention — The  New  Constitu- 
tion Formed  and  Adopted — George  Washington  elected  President — The 
Inauguration — The  First  Congress — The  First  Cabinet — Political  Parties — 
Hamilton's  Financial  Policy — Troubles  with  the  Indians  in  the  North- 
west— The  Second  Congress — Washington  Re-elected — American  Sympa- 
thy with  the  French  Revolution — The  Jay  Treaty — Vermont,  Kentucky, 
and  Tennessee  admitted  to  the  Union — Declination  of  a  Third  Term  by 
Washington — Success  of  his  Administrations — Social  Observances — Elec- 
tion of  John  Adams — Threatened  Difficulty  with  France — The  Alien  and 
Sedition  Laws  —  Death  of  Washington  —  Washington  City  in  1800— 
Churches  Founded  in  the  Eighteenth  Century — The  First  Cotton  Mill  in 
the  United  States — Eli  Whitney  Invents  the  Cotton-Gin — Manners  and 
Customs  at  the  Close  of  the  Eighteenth  Century 325-353 


CHAPTER  X. 

AMERICAN   NATIONALITY  ASSURED— 1800-1820. 

Election  of  Thomas  Jefferson  as  President — His  Cabinet — His  Policy — Repeal 
of  the  Sedition  Act — Ohio  admitted  to  the  Union — Acquisition  of  Lou- 
isiana — Extent  of  Louisiana — Expedition  against  Tripoli — Death  of  Alex- 
ander Hamilton — Re-election  of  Jefferson — ^John  Randolph — Trial  of 
Aaron  Burr — Fulton  and  the  First  Steamboat — The  Embargo  Act — ^James 
Madison  elected  President — His  Cabinet — Rupture  with  England — Louis- 
iana admitted  to  the  Union — Madison  Re-elected — War  declared  with 
England — Attempted  Invasions  of  Canada — Successes  of  the  American 
Navy — Military  Movements  at  the  North  and  West — Naval  Battle  on  Lake 
Erie — War  with  the  Southern  Indians — English  Devastation  of  the  South- 
em  Coast — Opposition  to  the  War  by  Massachusetts — Oswego — Chippewa 
— Lundy's  Lane — Plattsburg — Washington  occupied  by  the  British— Battle 
of  New  Orleans — The  Dartmoor  Massacre — Indiana  admitted  to  the  Union 
— ^James  Monroe  elected  President — His  Cabinet — State  of  the  Country — 
Colleges  Founded — Foreign  Missionary  Society — American  Bible  Society 
— Mississippi,  Illinois,  Alabama,  and  Maine  admitted  to  the  Union — 
Re-election  of  James  Monroe — The  Missouri  Compromise 354-^409 

CHAPTER  XI. 

INTERNAL  DISSENSIONS— 1 820-1 840. 

Financial  Prostration  of  the  Country — The  Monroe  Doctrine — John  Quincy 
Adams  elected  President — Lafayette's  Visit  to  the  United  States — Mis- 
souri admitted    to   the    Union — Internal    Improvements    Proposed — The 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 

Erie  Canal — Completion  of  the  Capitol — Death  of  Adams  and  Jefferson —  pack 
— The  First  Railroad  in  the  United  States — Andrew  Jackson  elected 
President — Character  of  Jackson — His  Cabinet — Wholesale  Removals 
from  Office — The  Foot  Resolutions — The  Debate  between  Webster  and 
Hayne — Death  of  James  Monroe — The  United  States  Bank — The  Tariff 
Compromise — Re-election  of  Andrew  Jackson — Formation  of  the  Whig 
Party — The  Press  in  1835 — Indian  Troubles — Arkansas  and  Michigan 
admitted  to  the  Union — Martin  Van  Buren  elected  President — Financial 
Crisis  of  1837 — The  Movement  for  Canadian  Independence — General 
Harrison  elected  'President 408-435 


CHAPTER  XII. 

CULMINATION  OF  DOMESTIC   DIFFICULTIES.— 1840-1860. 

Popularity  of  Harrison — His  Death — John  Tyler  becomes  President — Dorr's 
Rebellion — Anti-Rent  Difficulty  in.  New  York — The  Mormons — Morse 
and  the  Magnetic  Telegraph — Florida  admitted  to  the  Union— Annex- 
ation of  Texas — ^James  K.  Polk  elected  President — The  Oregon  Boun- 
dary—  War  with  Mexico  —  Battles  of  Palo  Alto  and  Resaca  de  la 
Palma — Battle  of  Monterey — Battle  of  Buena  Vista — Cerro  Gordo — Cap- 
ture of  Mexico— Peace  Declared — Fruits  of  the  War — General  Taylor 
elected  President — Iowa  and  Wisconsin  admitted  to  the  Union — President 
Taylor's  Cabinet— Congress  of  1850 — Millard  Fillmore,  President — Dis- 
covery of  Gold  in  California — "  Manifest  Destiny  " — Opening  of  the  Erie 
Railroad — Franklin  Pierce  elected  President — Bleeding  Kansas — The 
Know-Nothing  Party — James  Buchanan  elected  President — His  Cabinet 
— The  Dred  Scott  Decision — Minnesota  and  Oregon  admitted  to  the 
Union — The  Donation  Law — ^John  Brown — Abraham  Lincoln  elected 
President — Secession  of  the  Southern  States 436-480 


PART   lY.-THS    CIYIL   WAR. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

FIRST  YEAR  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR.— 1861. 

The  Inauguration  of  Lincoln — His  Cabinet — Events  at  the  South — Attack  on 
Fort  Sumter— Effect  at  the  North— Surrender  of  Fort  Sumter— The  De- 
fence of  Washington— Death  of  Ellsworth — War  in  West  Virginia  and 
Missouri — Battle  of  Bull  Run — War  on  the  Sea  and  along  the  Coast — 
Letters  of  Marque  issued  by  the  Confederate  Government — Southern  Ports 
Blockaded— Foreign  Relations — The  Trent  Aflfair 481-494 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

SECOND   YEAR  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR— 1862. 

Operations  in  the  West — Capture  of  Fort  Donelson — Battle  of  Pittsburg  Land-  Mfli 
ing — Military  and  Naval  Operations  along  the  Mississippi — Battle  of  Cor- 
inth— Battle  of  Murfreesborough — Capture  of  New  Orleans — The  Contest 
in  Missouri — Movements  in  North  Carolina — ^The  Monitor  and  Merrimac 
—The  Peninsular  Campaign— Battle  of  Williamsburg  — The  Capitol 
Threatened— Battle  of  Fair  Oaks— The  Seven-Days  Battles — Lee  invades 
Maryland — Battle  of  Antietam — Battle  of  Fredericksburg — Indian  Trou- 
bles in  the  West— Eflfects  of  the  Blockade  at  the  South 495'^9> 

CHAPTER  XV. 

THIRD  YEAR  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR— 1863. 

The  Emancipation  Proclamation — Negro  Soldiers — Grant's  Movement  against 
Vicksburg — Battles  of  Port  Gibson,  Jackson,  Champion  Hills,  and  Big 
Black  River — Surrender  of  Vicksburg — Capitulation  of  Port  Hudson — 
Battle  of  Chickamauga — Battles  of  Lookout  Mountain  and  Chattanooga — 
Scenes  after  the  Battle — Anecdote  ol  the  Third  Ohio  and  the  Fifty-fourth 
Virginia  Regiments — Operations  before  Knoxville — Battle  of  Chancellors- 
ville — Stonewall  Jackson — Lee's  Invasion  of  Maryland — Battle  of  Gettys- 
burg— Fall  Campaign  in  Virginia — Capture  of  Fort  Wagner — Conscription 
Laws — Riot  in  New  York — Dedication  of  Gettysburg  Battle-Field — 
Cavalry  Raids 53I'-5Sf 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

FOURTH   YEAR  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR— 1864. 

Grant  appointed  Commander-in-Chief— Sherman's  March  to  Atlanta — Battles 
of  Dallas,  Resaca,  New  Hope  Church,  Allatoona  Pass,  and  Kenesa\r 
Mountain — Johnston  Superseded — Hood's  Three  Attacks  on  Sherman- 
Capture  of  Atlanta — The  March  to  the  Sea — Capture  of  Fort  McAllister — 
Battles  of  Franklin  and  Nashville — The  Overland  Campaign — Battles  of 
the  Wilderness,  Spottsylvania  Court-House,  Cold  Harbor,  and  before  Pe- 
tersburg— Early's  Raid  upon  Washington — The  Mine  Disaster — Gloomy 
Feeling  at  the  North — Sheridan  in  the  Shenandoah  Valley — ^The  Meridian 
Campaign— The  Red  River  Campaign 560-583 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

LAST  YEAR  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR— 1865. 

Plan  of  the  Campaign— Cavalry  Movements— Sherman's  March  through  the 
Carolinas— Fall  of  Charleston— Battles  of  Bentonville  and  Averysboro— 
Desperate  Condition  of  Lee— Attack  on  Fort  Steadman — Battle  of  Fire 

13 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 

Forks — Evacuation  of  Richmond— Lee's  Retreat— The  Surrender  at  Appo-         pagb 
mattox  Court-House — Downfall  of  the  Confederacy— Capture  of  Jefferson 
Davis — Assassination  of  Lincoln — Cost  of  the  War — Financial  Policy  of 
the   Government— Sanitary  and   Christian   Commissions — The   Southern 
Women 584-600 


PART   Y  — THE   HEW   ERA* 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  DECADE  OF  RECONSTRUCTION. 

The  Inauguration  of  Johnson — Disbanding  of  the  National  Army — ^Johnson's 
Plan  of  Reconstruction — Adoption  of  the  Thirteenth  Amendment — Con- 
gressional Policy — Fourteenth  Amendment — The  Southern  States  Re- 
stored to  the  Union — Impeachment  of  the  President — Universal  Amnesty 
— Maximilian  in  Mexico — The  Atlantic  Telegraph — The  Fenians — Grant's 
Administration — Cabinet — The  Pacific  Railroad — Black  Friday — Reunion 
of  the  Presbyterian  Church — Fifteenth  Amendment — The  Ninth  Census — 
Annexation  of  Santo  Domingo — The  New  York  Ring — The  Alabama 
Claims— Fire  in  Chicago— Fire  in  Boston — The  "  Back  Pay  " — Grant's 
Second  Administration — Cabinet — Death  of  Horace  Greeley — Indian  Wars 
— The  Credit  Mobilier — Panic  of  1873 — Patrons  of  Industry — Admission 
of  Colorado — Death  of  Distinguished  Men 603-620 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

THE    CENTENNIAL    DECADE— 1876-1886. 

The  Centennial  year  and  its  Celebration — The  International  Exhibition — 
Changes  in  the  Cabinet— Operations  of  the  "  Whiskey  Ring  "—Presidential 
Nominations — General  Schenck  and  the  Emma  Mine— Troubles  with  the 
Sioux — The  Election — The  Disputed  Returns— The  Electoral  Commission 
—  Hayes  Declared  Elected — His  Life — His  Cabinet  —  Withdrawal  of 
Troops  from  the  South — Civil  Service  Reform — Labor  Disturbances — 
The  Telephone  — The  Silver-bill  —  The  Fisheries  Award— The  Tenth 
Census— The  Presidential  Election  of  1880— Election  of  James  A.  Garfield 
—Indian  Schools  and  the  Education  of  the  Indian— Sketch  of  James  A. 
Garfield— His  Cabinet— Republican  Party  Difficulties— The  Assassination 
of  Garfield— His  Long  and  Weary  Struggle— His  Removal  to  Long 
Branch,  N.  J.— His  Death— Its  Effect  upon  the  Country— The  Accession 
of  Chester  A.  Arthur  to  the  Presidency— Sketch  of  President  Arthur- 
Cabinet  Appointments— Centennial  of  Battle  of  Yorktown — Mississippi 
Flood — Brooklyn  Bridge  Opened — New  Orleans  Exposition— Standard 
Time  — Arctic  Explorations  —  Important  Bills  —  Tariff  Discussion— Civil 
Service  Reform— Election  of  Grover  Cleveland — Sketch— Cabinet— Death 
of  General  Grant 621-645 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    XX. 

ERA   OF  REFORM— 1885-1889. 

'fhe  Development  of  the  Navy — The  New  Cruisers — The  Army — Indian  In- 
dustrial Schools — Indian  Troubles — The  Public  Debt — The  Edmunds 
Anti-Polygamy  Bill — The  Presidential  Succession  Bill — The  Foreign  Con- 
tract Labor  Bill — The  Canadian  Fisheries  Question — Reduction  of  the 
Public  Debt — Cabinet  Changes — The  Interstate  Commerce  Bill — The 
Captured  Confederate  Flags — The  Centenary  Celebration  of  the  Adoption 
of  the  Constitution — The  "  Blizzard "  of  March,  1888 — The  Earthquake 
in  South  Carolina — The  Government  Civil  Service  System — The  Pres- 
idential Campaign — The  Mills  Bill — Benjamin  Harrison  elected  Presi- 
dent—His Genealogy — His  Biography — Selection  of  His  Cabinet — His 
Attitude  toward  Civil  Service  Reform — The  Pension  Roll — Its  Wonderful 
Increase — Corporal  Tanner — The  Celebration  of  the  Centennial  of  the 
Inauguration  of  Washington— Formation  of  the  New  Territory  of  Okla- 
homa— Admission  of  the  New  States — North  and  South  Dakota,  Washing- 
ton, and  Montana 646-655 

Summary  of  Events,  1889-1890 655-657 

CHAPTER    XXI. 
CLOSE  OF  THE  HARRISON  ADMINISTRATION— 1891-1893. 

Reciprocity  with  Brazil — Postal  Subsidy — International  Copyright — A  Cir- 
cuit Court  of  Appeals — Closer  Inspection  of  Immigrants — Italian  Riot 
in  New  Orleans — Complication  with  Italy — Chinese  Exclusion  Act — 
American  Registration — Hog  Embargo  Raised  by  Germany,  Denmark, 
Italy,  France,  Austria — Patrick  Egan  Minister  to  Chili — Secretary 
Blaine  Resigns — Campaign  of  1892 — The  Party  Platforms — Cholera — 
Columbian  Celebration  in  New  Fork — Death  of  Mrs.  Harrison — Cleve- 
land Elected — Reciprocity  Treaties— Death  of  Gen.  B.  F.  Butler — Of 
Ex-President  Hayes — Of  Secretary  Blaine — Revolution  in  Hawaii — 
Grover  Cleveland  Inaugurated — Boston  Fire — Business  Depression...  658-664 

CHAPTER    XXII. 

COLUMBIAN    DECADE  AND    THE   CLEVELAND   AND   McKINLEY 
ADMINISTRATIONS— 1894-1901. 

The  Columbian  Exposition  in  Chicago — Assassination  of  Mayor  Harrison 
of  Chicago — Currency  Famine — Wilson  Tariff  Bill — Republican  Mayor 
in  New  York — Free  Silver  Agitation — The  Venezuela  Incident — The 
Cuban  Revolt — Filibusters — The  Party  Platforms — Bryan's  Campaign 
— McKinley  Elected — Business  Revival — The  Klondike — Cuban  Diffi- 
culties— The  Destruction  of  the  "Maine" — War  with  Spain  Declared 
— The  Battle  of  Manila — Blockade  of  Cuba — The  "Merrimac" — Agui- 
naldo — El  Caney — San  Juan  Hill — Destruction  of  Cervera's  Fleet — 
Porto  Rico — Treaty  of  Peace — Hawaii — Rebellion  of  the  Filipinos — 
Samoa — The  Census — McKinley  Re-elected — The  "  Boxer"  Rebellion — 
The  Allied  Powers  in  China — Capture  of  Aguinaldo — McKinley  Assas- 
sinated     665-702 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    XXIII. 
ROOSEVELT'S   ADMINISTRATION— 1901-1904. 

Continues  Policy  of  McKinley — Prince  Henry  of  Prussia's  Visit —  Volcanic  pagb 
Eruptions  in  the  West  Indies — The  "Trust"  Issue — Anthracite  Coal- 
miners'  Strike — President  appoints  Commission  to  Attempt  Settlement 
— Check  in  Business  Prosperity — Governor  Taft  Appointed  Secretary 
of  War — Cuban  Reciprocity  Bill  Passed — Dangerous  Condition  of 
Venezuelan  Question — Canadian-Alaskan  Boundary  Settled  by  Com- 
mission— The  Isthmian  Canal  Complications — Louisiana  Purchase 
Exposition 703-712 


It**** 


1  Frontispiece.    Portrait,  George  Washington.  tAcs 

2  Columbus  in  his  Study,  &c.,  &c. — Initial 9 

3  The  Serpent  Mound 10 

4  The  Mounds  near  Little  Rock,  Ark 11 

5  Indian  Symbols 13 

6  Specimen  of  Indian  Picture-Writing 15 

7  Indian  Life 17 

8  An  Indian  Family  Moving 18 

9  Norman  Ship  (from  the  Bayeux  Tapestry) 20 

10  The  Ancient  Tower  at  Newport,  R.  1 20 

11  Portrait,  Columbus 21 

12  Behaim's  Globe  ( 1492) — Eastern  Hemisphere 22 

13  "             "      (1492) — Western  Hemisphere 23 

14  Columbus  Discovering  Land , .  24 

15  A  Spanish  Caravel 24 

16  Columbus  Taking  Possession 25 

17  Tomb  of  Columbus  at  Havana 26 

18  Balboa — Initial 27 

19  De  Soto's  March 28 

20  Portrait,  Jacques  Cartier 28 

21  Map  of  Early  American  Discoveries 29 

22  Portrait,  Admiral  Coligny 29 

23  Old  Gateway  at  St.  Augustine,  Florida 30 

24  Raleigh  introduces  Tobacco  into  England 32 

25  The  Deserted  Colony  of  Roanoke 33 

26  The  Ruins  at  Jamestown 34 

27  Smith  Explaining  his  Compass  to  the  Indians 35 

28  Pocahontas 36 

29  Selling  Wives  to  the  Planters 38 

30  Drummond  brought  before  Berkeley 40 

31  Portrait,  Lord  Baltimore 42 

32  Signing  the  Compact  in  the  Cabin  of  the  Mayflower 43 

33  Plymouth  Rock 44 

34  Welcome,  Englishmen. — Plymouth,  1621 45 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTPLA.TIONS. 

PAGB 

35  Fac-simile  of  First  Map  Engraved  in  New  England 47 

36  Roger  Williams  Received  by  Canonicus 48 

37  Portrait,  King  Philip  49 

38  GOFFE  at   HADLEY 50 

39  The  Old  Witch  House,  Salem 52 

40  The  Charter  Oak 54 

41  The  Half-Moon  in  the  Hudson 55 

42  Portrait,  Governor  Stuyvesant 57 

43  The  English  Landing  at  New  York,  1664 5t 

44  The  Tomb  of  Peter  Stuyvesant 59 

45  Seals  of  New  Amsterdam  and  New  York 60 

46  Statue  of  Penn  in  Philadelphia 61 

47  Huguenots  going  to  Church 64 

48  Portrait,  General  Oglethorpe,  aged  102 65 

49  Penn's  Treaty  Tree 66 

50  The  Death  Whoop — Initial 67 

51  Portrait,  Samuel  Champlain 68 

52  Marquette  Descending  the  Mississippi 69 

53  A  Fortified  House 70 

54  The  Indian  Attack  on  Schenectady 71 

55  Mrs.  Dustin  Disposing  of  her  Captors 72 

56  Map  of  the  French  and  Indian  Wars  (1689  to  1763) 73 

57  An  Incident  of  Washington's  Return 75 

58  Portrait,  Benjamin  Franklin 76 

59  Washington  at  Braddock's  Defeat 77 

60  Portrait,  General  Wolfe 80 

61  Quebec  in  Early  Times 81 

62  The  Grave  of  Braddock 83 

63  Clearing  a  Home  in  the  Backwoods — Initial 84 

64  Pine-Tree  Shilling 85 

65  The  Old  Stage-Coach 86 

66  Early  Printing-Press 89 

67  A  Scold  Gagged 90 

68  The  Stocks 90 

69  The  First  Church  erected  in  Connecticut  (1638) 91 

70  Whitefield's  House,  Guilford,  Connecticut 95 

71  Training-Day  in  the  Olden  Time 97 

72  A  Wedding  Journey 98 

73  Dutch  Mansion  and  Cottage  in  New  Amsterdam 102 

74  Dutch  Courtship 106 

75  Ye  Dutch  Schoolmaster 106 

76  Early  American  Plow  114 

77  The  Pillory 115 

78  The  Old-Time  Fireside 119 

79  Ancient  Chair  (brought  over  in  the  Mayflower) 125 

80  The  Woolen  Spinning-Wheel 126 

81  Field  Sports  of  the  South 130 

82  The  Boston  Tea-Party — Initial 133 

83  Portrait,  William  Pitt,  Earl  of  Chatham 135 

84  Patrick  Henry  Addressing  the  Virginia  Assembly 136 

85  Map  of  the  Colonies 138 

Full-page  Portrait,  Benjamin  Franklin 139 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

86  Faneuil  Hall , 140 

87  The  Regulators  Threatening  Governor  Tryon 142 

88  Carpenter's  Hall 144 

89  England  Forcing  Tea  down  the  Throat  of  America 145 

90  The  Light  in  the  Steeple — Initial 146 

91  Paul  Revere  Spreading  the  Alarm 147 

92  Map,  Vicinity  of  Boston  and  Concord 148 

93  Putnam  Starting  for  Cambridge 149 

94  Ethan  Allen  at  Ticonderoga , 150 

95  The  Prayer  before  the  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill 152 

96  Map  of  the  Battle  of  Bunker  Hill  153 

97  The  Bayonet  Charge  at  Bunker  Hill 154 

98  The  Old  Magazine  at  Williamsburg,  Va 158 

99  Specimen  of  Continental  Money 161 

100  The  Prescott  Gate,  Quebec 163 

loi  A  Street  in  Quebec — Scene  of  Arnold's  Attack 165 

102  Evacuation  of  Boston — Initial 166 

103  Boston  One  Hundred  Years  Ago .• 169 

104  The  Attack  on  Fort  Moultrie 171 

105  Liberty  Bell 173 

106  Map  of  Battle  of  Long  Island 178 

107  Prison-Ship  at  Wallabout 179 

108  The  Retreat  from  Long  Island 180 

109  Map  of  the  Lower  Hudson 185 

no  A  Hessian  Grenadier 188 

111  Washington  Crossing  the  Delaware 191 

112  Washington's  Visit  to  General  Rall 194 

113  Portrait,  Robert  Morris 195 

114  Franklin  at  the  French  Court — Initial. 196 

115  Death  of  General  Mercer  and  Mercer  Monument 198 

116  Portraits,  Pulaski,  Kosciusko  and  Baron  DeKalb 202 

117  Ruins  of  Fort  Ticonderoga 205 

118  The  Alarm  at  Fort  Schuyler 209 

119  Mrs.  Schuyler  Setting  the  Grain-Fields  on  Fire 212 

120  General  Eraser  Covered  by  Sharp-Shooters 217 

121  Map  of  the  Upper  Hudson 219 

122  Portrait,  General  Burgoyne 224 

123  "           General  Gates 225 

124  Map  of  Operations  in  New  Jersey  and  Pennsylvania 230 

125  The  Paoli  Monument 232 

126  Battle  of  Germantown — Attack  on  Chew's  House 234 

127  Capture  of  General  Prescott 237 

128  Execution  of  a  Spy  at  Kingston,  N.  Y 240 

129  Washington's  Headquarters  at  Valley  Forge 246 

130  Washington  at  Prayer — Initial 247 

131  In  Camp  at  Valley  Forge 251 

132  Portrait,  Marquis  de  Lafayette 255 

133  Louis  XVI. ,  Marie  Antoinette  and  the  Dauphin 259 

134  Medal  Commemorating  the  Alliance  between  France  and  the  United 

States 259 

135  Molly  Pitcher  at  the  Battle  of  Monmouth 261 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 

4 

»AGE 

136  Portrait,  Joseph  Brandt  (after  Catlin) 269 

137  "  Red  Jacket  (after  Weir) 270 

138  Map  of  Operations  in  Virginia  and  the  Carolinas 272 

139  Giving  the  Countersign  at  Stony  Point 275 

140  Capture  of  the  Serapis  by  the  Bon  Homme  Richard 281 

141  The  Decatur  Monument 282 

142  Patriots  making  Arms  and  Ammunition — Initial 283 

143  A  Rendezvous  of  Marion  and  his  Men 288 

144  Nancy  Hart  and  the  British  Soldiers 292 

145  The  Old  Sugar  House,  Liberty  Street,  New  York 298 

146  Capture  of  Major  Andre 302 

147  The  Monument  at  Tarrytown 305 

148  General  Wayne  Confronting  the  Rioters— Initial 306 

149  Mrs.  Steele  and  General  Greene 310 

150  The  Partisan  Leaders  of  the  South 314 

151  Map  of  the  Siege  of  Yorktown 320 

152  Surrender  of  Cornwallis  at  Yorktown 321 

153  Portrait,  George  the  Third 324 

154  Washington's  Inauguration  at  Federal  Hall— Initial 327 

155  Washington's  Headquarters  at  Newburg 330 

156  Map,  Territorial  Growth  of  the  United  States 332 

157  Washington  and  his  Cabinet 335 

158  Daniel  Boone's  Exploring  Expedition 340 

159  Mount  Vernon 343 

160  Portrait,  Napoleon  Buonaparte 34S 

161  Medal,  Washington  and  Lafayette  353 

162  Portrait,  Thomas  Jefferson— Initial 354 

163  Jefferson  going  to  his  Inauguration 356 

164  Chief-Justice  Marshall  in  the  Library  of  Congress 359 

165  Duel  between  Hamilton  and  Burr 363 

166  The  Clermont,  Fulton's  Steamboat 366 

167  Portrait,  Elskwatawa,  the  Prophet 370 

168  Burning  of  the  Richmond  (Va.)  Theatre 371 

169  Map  of  the  War  of  1812-14  (Northern  Region) 374- 

170  General  Scott  and  the  two  Indians 37^ 

171  "  Old  Ironsides  " 378 

172  Capture  of  the  Frolic 379 

173  Sackett's  Harbor  in  1814 380 

174  Portrait,  Captain  James  Lawrence 382 

175  Perry's  Headquarters 384 

176  Perry  leaving  the  Lawrence 385 

177  A  Caricature  of  the  Time— (Queen  Charlotte  and  Johnny  Bull  got 

their  Dose  of  Perry) 386 

178  Portrait,  Oliver  Hazard  Perry 387, 

179  Map,  Southern  Region  of  the  War  of  1812-14 388' 

180  Weatherford  in  Jackson's  Tent 389 

181  The  Attack  on  Oswego 390 

182  Colonel  Miller  at  Lundy's  Lane 392 

183  The  Ruins  of  Fort  Erie— Buffalo  in  the  Distance 393 

184  British  Soldiers  Burning  Books  in  the  Library  of  Congress 394 

185  The  Battle  of  New  Orleans 397 

18 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

i86  Portrait,  Emma  Willard 402 

187  Chicago  in  1820 405 

188  The  Old  Block-House,  Chicago 407 

189  Portrait,  John  Quincy  Adams — Initial 408 

190  Lafayette  at  the  Tomb  of  Washington 411 

191  Monticello,  the  Home  of  Jefferson 415 

192  The  First  Railroad  Train  in  the  United  States 416 

193  Portrait,  Andrew  Jackson 419 

Full-page  Portrait,  Daniel  Webster 421 

194  Portraits,  Hayne  and  Webster 422 

195  Henry  Clay  Addressing  the  Senate 425 

196  The  United  States  Bank 426 

197  The  Dade  Monument  at  West  Point,  N.  Y 430 

198  Portrait,  William  Henry  Harrison 434 

199  Birthplace  of  Martin  Van  Buren 435 

200  Portrait,  John  Tyler 436 

201  The  Tomb  of  Harrison 438 

202  View  of  Nauvoo  City 441 

203  House  in  which  the  First  Congress  of  Texas  Met 444 

204  Santa  anna  Rebuked  by  Houston 446 

205  Capture  of  the  Mexican  Battery  by  Captain  May 450 

206  A  Scene  at  Monterey 452 

207  Map  Illustrating  the  Mexican  War 454 

208  On  the  Summit  of  the  Cordilleras 458 

209  Secretary  Preston  and  the  Boatswain 462 

210  Portrait,  General  Zachary  Taylor 463 

211  Bird's-eye  View  of  San  Francisco 466 

212  Ashland,  the  Home  of  Henry  Clay 47o 

213  Scenes  in  Kansas 473 

214  Portrait,  James  Buchanan 475 

215  *•  Abraham  Lincoln 479 

216  Fort  Sumter 480 

Full-page  Portrait,  Abraham  Lincoln 482 

217  Mass  Meeting  in  Union  Square,  New  York — Initial 483 

218  Lincoln's  Early  Home  in  Illinois 485 

219  Attack  on  Fort  Sumter  from  Morris  Island 487 

220  "  Stonewall"  Jackson  at  the  Head  of  his  Brigade 491 

221  Intercepting  the  Trent 494 

222  Group  of  Union  Volunteers — Initial. 495 

223  Surrender  of  Fort  Donelson.  . .    498 

224  The  Midnight  Council  of  War 499 

225  Donaldson's  Point  and  Island  No.  10 503 

226  Map  of  Operations  in  the  East 505 

227  Heroism  of  Colonel  Rogers 507 

228  Bird's-eye  View  of  New  Orleans 510 

229  Naval  Duel  between  the  Monitor  and  the  Merrimac 514 

230  Map  of  the  Peninsula 516 

231  Building  a  Corduroy  Road  through  a  Swamp 517 

232  Portrait,  General  George  B.  McClellan 520 

233  "  General  Robert  E.  Lee 522 

234  Death  of  General  Kearney 525 

235  Storming  the  Bridge  at  Antietam . .  527 

236  The  Monitor  at  Sea 530 


LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGB 

237  Reading  the  Emancipation  Proclamation — Initial 531 

238  Running  the  Batteries  at  Vicksburg 532 

239  Map  of  Vicksburg  and  Vicinity.. 534 

240  Map  of  Chattanooga  and  Vicinity £36 

241  A  Charge  at  Missionary  Ridge 530 

242  Lee  and  Jackson  Planning  the  Battle  of  Chancellorsville 542 

243  Stonewall  Jackson  in  his  Tent 545 

244  Portrait,  Major-General  George  G.  Meade 548 

245  Map  of  Gettysburg  and  Vicinity 549 

246  Repulsing  a  Charge  at  Gettysburg 551 

247  Drafting 556 

248  The  National  Monument  at  Gettysburg 559 

249  An  Impromptu  Fortification — Initial 560 

250  Map  of  Operations  in  the  West 563 

251  The  March  to  the  Sea 565 

252  Crossing  the  Rapidan— Grant's  Telegram 568 

253  Map  of  Grant's  Campaign  around  Richmond 569 

254  Portrait,  General  Ulysses  S.  Grant 573 

255  Sheridan's  Arrival  at  Cedar  Creek 576 

256  Naval  Battle  in  Mobile  Bay 579 

257  The  Alabama 582 

258  Portraits,  Sherman  and  Sheridan 583 

259  Refugees  Following  the  Army— /mV/a/ 584 

260  Sherman  at  the  Head  of  his  Troops 586 

261  Portrait,  General  Joseph  E.  Johnston 587 

262  City  of  Richmond 589 

263  Cavalry  Charge  oit  the  Confederate  Wagon-Train 591 

264  Signing  the  Terms  of  Surrender 593 

265  Portrait,  Jefferson  Davis 594 

266  Assassination  of  President  Lincoln 596 

267  A  Scene  at  the  Surrender  of  Lee 600 

268  Reconciliation — Initial 603 

269  The  Grand  Review— Marching  down  Pennsylvania  Avenue 605 

270  Portrait,  Andrew  Johnson 607 

271  The  Great  Eastern  in  Mid-Ocean  Laying  the  Cable 610 

272  General  Grant's  Residence  at  Galena,  III.,  in  i860 612 

273  Driving  the  Last  Spike 613 

274  Portrait,  Horace  Greeley 617 

275  Centennial  Medal — Reverse 620 

276  Group  of  Sioux  Indians 623 

277  Portrait  of  Rutherford  B.  Hayes 624 

278  The  Bland  Silver  Dollar 627 

279  The  White  House 629 

281  Portraits  of  Garfield  and  Arthur 631 

282  Assassination  of  President  Garfield •  633 

283  Garfield  Looking  out  upon  the  Sea  at  Long  Branch 634 

284  Centennial  of  Battle  of  Yorktown 636 

285  The  Brooklyn  Bridge 637 

286  Arctic  Sledging 639 

287  Grover  Cleveland 643 

288  Grant's  Birthplace  ;  Tomb,  Etc 644 

289  Man-of-War  with  Search  Light 647 

290  Bknjamin  Harrison 652 

2Ql    PORIRAIT,  JaMKS    G.    BlAINE = 663 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

292  William  McKinley 674 

293  The  "Viscaya"  in  New  York  Harbor 678 

294  Manila  Harbor 684 

295  Battle  of  Manila  Bay — Map 685 

296  American  Troops  in  Porto  Rico 693 

297  Treaty  Commissioners 695 

298  Theodore  Roosevelt , . .  702 

299  Louisiana  Purchase  Exposition — Towers  Flanking  Main  Entrance...  707 

300  Louisiana  Purchase  Exposition — Festival  Hall  and  Cascades 713 

301  Panama  Canal  Profile  and  General  View 716 


PART  I. 


IntroHttrtm 


Lift  we  the  twilight  curtains  of  the  Past, 
And,  turning  from  familiar  sight  and  sound. 

Sadly  and  full  of  reverence  let  us  cast 

A  glance  upon   Tradition's  shadowy  ground, 

Led  by  the  few  pale  lights  which,  glimmering  round 

That  dim,  *trange  land  of  Eld,  seem  dying  fast'' 


CHAPTER    I. 

EJ(kLY  ElSTO(kY   OF   JME^ICJ, 


HE  authentic  history  of  North 
America  is  comprised  within 
four  centuries.  All  back  of  that 
rests  upon  ruins  and  traditions, 
and  is  largely  mythical.  The 
Indians  were  noc  the  most 
ancient  inhabitants  of  North 
America.  Through  the  whole 
length  of  the  Mississippi  Valley 
are  found  the  remains  of  a 
numerous  and  civilized  people 
which  once  occupied  this  coun- 
try. This  race  is  known  as  the 
Mound  Builders,  from  the  large 
number  of  mounds  which  they 
erected,  seemingly  as  monu- 
ments to  distinguished  dead,  or 


10 


EARLY    HISTORY    OF    AMERICA. 


as  grana  altars  for  religious  purposes.  Sixteen  miles  east  of 
Little  Rock,  Arkansas,  are  two  of  these  elevations,  the  larger  of 
which  is  over  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet  in  height.  Its  summit 
is  crowned  with  a  magnificent  elm  which  has  stood  four  hun- 
dred years.  Near  by  is  a  sheet  of  water  known  as  Mound  Lake, 
three  and  a  half  miles  long  and  a  quarter  of  a  mile  broad,  the 
result  evidently  of  excavation  for  the  mound  material.  The 
two  mounds  are  encircled  by  a  ditch  which  encloses  an  area 
of  over  ninety  acres.  Elsewhere  are  seen  extensive  earthworks 
constructed  with  considerable  skill.  They  crown  a  steep  bluff, 
or  are  carried  across  the  neck  of  a  peninsula  formed  by  the 
bend  of  a  river.  If  there  is  no  access  to  springs  or  streams,  they 
contain  artificial  reservoirs  for  holding  water.  Fort  Hill,  on  the 
Little  Miami  River,  Ohio,  consists  of  an  embankment  nearly 
four  miles  in  extent,  and  from  ten  to  twenty  feet  high,  varying 

according  to  the  natural  advantages  of 
the  ground.  In  Adams  county,  Ohio, 
is  a  curious  earthwork,  representing 
an  immense  serpent,  one  thousand  feet 
long,  holding  in  its  mouth  an  egg- 
shaped  mound  one  hundred  and  sixty  feet 
in  length,  and  having  its  tail  twined 
into  a  triple  coil.  These  mounds  rarely 
contain  more  than  one  skeleton.  Many 
tools  and  ornaments  of  copper,  brass, 
silver,  and  precious  stones,  such  as 
knives,  axes,  chisels,  bracelets,  and  beads 
have  been  found ;  as  also  cloth  and 
thread  and  vases  of  potteiy.  Near 
Nashville,  in  Tennessee,  an  idol  made  of  clay  and  gypsum  was  ex- 
humed. Roman  and  Persian  coins  have  been  discovered  ;  and  in 
Western  New  York  a  silver  piece,  with  the  date  a.d.  600,  found 
far  below  the  surface,  furnishes  a  theme  for  many  a  speculation. 
The  Mound  Builders  worked  the  copper  mines  about  Lake 
Superior,  and  their  old  pits  are  now  familiarly  known  in  that 
region  as  the  **  ancient  diggings."  In  one  of  these  mines  near 
Eagle  Harbor,  a  mass  of  copper  was  found  which  weighed  forty- 
six  tons.  The  block  had  been  separated  from  the  original  vein 
and  the  surface  pounded  smooth.  About  it  lay  stone  hammers, 
copper  chisels  and  wedges  in  abundance,  as  if  the  workmen  had 
but  just  departed.     Upon  these  mounds  and  mines  the  largest 


THE  SERPENT  MOUND. 


PREHISTORIC    PEOPLES. 


II 


forest  trees  are  now  growing.  On  one  mound  near  Marietta, 
Ohio,  there  are  trees  which  must  have  seen  at  least  eight  cen- 
turies. The  age  of  the  mounds  themselves  is  a  matter  of  conjec- 
ture alone. 

"  A  race  that  long  has  passed  away- 
Built  them  :  a  disciplined  and  populous  race 
Heaped  with  long  toil  the  earth,  while  yet  the  Greek 
Was  hewing  the  Pentelicus  to  forms 
Of  symmetry,  and  rearing  on  its  rock 
The  glittering  Parthenon." — Bryant. 

When  the  Jesuit  missionaries  first  came  to  America,  they 
found  the  Indians  not  only  entirely  ignorant  of  this  people,  but 
possessed  of  no  tradition  concerning  them.  Whence  these  un- 
known races  came  to  our  shores  we  know  not.      It  is.  natural 


THE  MOUNDS  NEAR   LITTLE   ROCK,   ARKANSAS. 


to  suppose,  however,  that  their  home  was  Asia — the  birthplace 
of  man.  Within  the  past  century  fifteen  Japanese  vessels  have,  it 
is  said,  been  driven  by  storms  across  the  Pacific  Ocean,  and 
wrecked  on  the  American  coast.  Such  events  may  have  hap- 
pened anciently,  and  the  shipwrecked  crews  may  have  settled  the 
new  country.  Formerly,  too,  as  geologists  tell  us,  before 
Behring  Strait  was  cut  through,  the  two  continents  were  con- 
nected. Parties  of  adventurers  may  then  have  crossed,  and 
finding  a  pleasant  land  on  this  side,  may  have  decided  to  make  it 
their  home.  All  is  conjecture,  however,  and  we  know  not  when 
nor  whence  the  Mound  Builders  came,  nor  when  nor  whither 
they  went. 


12  EARLY    HISTORY    OF    AMERICA. 

Most  curious  of  all  the  remains  found  on  this  continent  are 
those  of  Arizona.  Here  are  not  only  Spanish  cathedrals  dating 
back  of  the  Revolutionary  struggle,  and  ruins  of  Spanish  towns 
indicating  an  early  and  extensive  colonization,  now  disappeared, 
which  must  have  been  in  its  glory  when  as  yet  only  a  few  woe- 
begone English  settlers  half  starved  in  their  rude  cabins  along 
the  Potomac  River  and  Plymouth  Bay ;  but  recent  explorations 
have  revealed  other  and  prehistoric  remains,  belonging  to  a  race 
which  has  left  behind  no  tradition  even  of  its  name  or  origin. 
The  Gila  Valley  alone,  it  is  estimated,  must  once  have  been  occu- 
pied by  one  hundred  thousand  inhabitants.  In  the  great  Tonto 
Basin,  bounded  by  the  rivers  Gila,  Verde  and  Black  Mesa,  and  the 
White  Mountains,  nearly  every  hill  within  a  range  of  ten  thousand 
square  miles  is  covered  with  broken  pottery,  so  perfectly  glazed 
that  its  bright  coloring  is  still  preserved.  Here  are  ruins  of 
pueblos  four  stories  high,  and  with  walls  two  feet  thick ;  aqueducts, 
reservoirs,  irrigating  canals,  and  regular  fortifications.  Along  the 
cliffs  in  many  places  are  multitudes  of  caves  dug  into  the  solid 
rock,  where  the  inhabitants  seem  to  have  taken  refuge  and  made  a 
last  stand  against  an  invading  foe.  These  caves  are  often  twenty 
feet  deep,  and  closed  by  mason  work  of  stone  and  cement  still 
well  preserved.  These  retreats  are  only  accessible  by  means  of 
ladders,  or  by  narrow  paths  along  the  edge  of  projecting  crags, 
where  a  single  false  step  would  plunge  one  to  inevitable  destruc- 
tion. In  the  larger  caves,  the  front  wall  is  bastioned  and  loop- 
holed  ;  while  in  the  ceiling  of  the  principal  room  is  a  man-hole 
enabling  one  to  enter  a  series  of  chambers  with  which  the  whole 
mountain  is  honeycombed.  In  the  thick  deposit  of  bat-lime 
which  now  covers  the  floor,  are  broken  pieces  of  pottery  like 
those  found  so  abundantly  in  the  ruined  villages  along  the  river 
valleys.  The  timbers  used  in  the  various  rooms  were  evidently 
cut  with  stone  hatchets.  The  chambers  are  dark  and  the  walls 
are  yet  black  with  the  smoke  from  the  fires  of  the  ancient  cave- 
dwellers. 

One  can  but  speculate  on  the  fearful  struggle  which  appar- 
ently forced  this  people  to  leave  their  fortified  villages  and 
cultivated  fields,  and  to  hew  for  themselves  asylums  in  the  rock ; 
the  long  months  and  years  during  which  they  continued  the  con- 
test in  their  mountain  fortresses ;  the  details  of  this  final  death- 
struggle  ;  and  when  and  how  the  last  of  this  host  yielded,  and 
the  nation  was  blotted  out  of  existence. 


INDIAN    DIALECTS.  13 


THE   JMOF^TH    AMERICAN    IJMDI/1N3. 

The  first  inhabitants  of  whom  we  have  any  definite  knowledge 
are  the  Indians — so  named  because  the  earliest  European  explorers 
of  this  country  supposed  they  had  reached  the  eastern  coast  of 
India.  The  total  number  of  these  aborigines,  at  that  time  within 
the  present  limits  of  the  United  States,  was  probably  four  hundred 
thousand,  of  whom  about  one-half  lived  east  of  the  Mississippi. 
They  all  had  much  the  same  look,  and  doubtless  a  common  origin. 
They  were,  however,  divided  into  numerous  tribes  and  spoke 
different  languages.  Diligent  study  of  these  tongues  has  classed 
them  all  into,  perhaps,  seven  great  families — the  Algonquin,  the 
Iroquois,  the  Mobilian,  the  Dakotah  or  Sioux,  the  Cherokee,  the 
Catawba,  and  the  Shoshonee.  These  are  the  names  by  which 
they  are  commonly  known  to  us,  but  not,  in  general,  those  used 
among  the  natives.  The  terms  Huron,  Iroquois,  etc.,  are  only 
nick-names  given  by  the  whites  ;  Sioux  is  an  Algonquin  appella- 
tion. The  various  tribes  were  divided  into  clans,  each  with  its 
own  symbol,  as  a  tortoise,  deer,  snipe,  or  hawk,  often  tattooed  on 
the  warrior's  breast.  Over  the  clan  was  a  chief  or  sachem,  who 
represented  it  at  the  grand  councils  and  governed  it  according 
to  custom  and  tradition. 


^^^^ 


INDIAN  SYMBOLS. 


The  Algonquins  dwelt  along  the  Atlantic  coast  from  Cape 
Fear  northward,  and  were  those  with  whom  the  Jamestown  and 
Plymouth  colonists  alike  came  in  contact.  The  Narragansetts, 
Pequods,  Massachusetts,  Mohegans,  Manhattans,  Delawares, 
Powhatans,  Shawnees,  Miamis,  Illinois,  Sacs,  and  Foxes,  were 
tribes  of  this  wide-spread  family.  Their  memory  is  perpetuated 
by  the  histories  of  Pocahontas,  Powhatan,  Massasoit,  King 
Philip,  Black  Hawk,  Tecumseh,  and  Pontiac. 

The  Iroquois  occupied  a  territory  in  the  heart  of  the  Algon- 
quin region — a  tract  south  of  Lake  Ontario,  covering  the  head- 
waters of  the  Susquehanna,  Delaware,  and  Ohio,  which  General 


14  EARLY    HISTORY    OF    AMERICA. 

Scott  well  termed  the  "  strategic  centre  "  of  the  United  States. 
Here  was  the  home  of  the  Five  Nations,  so  famous  in  all  the  colonial 
wars.  Here  Red  Jacket  and  Joseph  Brandt  figured  as  characters 
more  like  ancient  Romans  than  wild  forest  Indians.  In  the  time 
of  their  greatest  prosperity  this  confederacy  did  not  number  over 
fifteen  thousand,  and  it  could  not  send  out  much  over  two  thou- 
sand  warriors.  But  they  were  fierce,  bloodthirsty,  and  restless 
for  conquest.  Pushing  along  the  valleys  from  their  headquarters 
on  the  great  watershed  of  Central  New  York,  they  carried  their 
triumphant  arms  to  the  soil  of  Kentucky  and  Virginia.  Their 
power  was  felt  to  the  Kennebec  on  the  east  and  the  Illinois  on  the 
west.  The  Delaware  tribe  was  triumphantly  and  ignominiously 
styled  their  "  woman."  Of  the  five  nations,  the  Mohawk  was  the 
most  dreaded.  When,  among  the  peaceful  Indians  along  the 
Connecticut,  a  messenger  stalked  into  their  council-room  exclaim- 
ing, '*  The  Mohawks  are  come  to  suck  your  blood,"  there  was  no 
thought  of  safety  except  in  flight  or  submission. 

The  Mobilians  stretched  along  the  Gulf  from  the  Atlantic  to 
the  Rio  Grande.  They  comprised  within  their  limits  the  com- 
paratively insignificant  tribes,  of  the  Uchee  and  the  Natchez.  The 
Creeks,  Seminoles,  Choctaws,  and  the  Chickasaws  are  interwoven 
with  the  later  history  of  the  country  at  the  south,  as  the  Sioux, 
Miamis,  Illinois,  Sacs,  etc.,  are  on  the  north. 

The  separate  languages  were  completely  organized,  though  no 
savage  had  ever  attempted  their  analysis,  or  knew  anything 
about  sounds,  letters,  or  syllables.  The  study  of  their  speech 
by  Europeans  has  shown  many  peculiarities.  Thus  the  Algon- 
quins  had  no  //  the  Choctaws  no  d;  the  Iroquois,  except  the 
Oneidas,  whose  tongue  was  soft  and  liquid,  no  /.  The  Algonquins 
loved  consonants,  while  every  word  in  the  Cherokee  ended  in  a 
vowel.  They  all  lacked  abstract  or  general  terms.  The  Algon- 
quins, for  example,  had  no  word  for  oak,  but  a  name  for  each  kind 
of  oak.  There  was  no  word  for  fishing,  but  a  specific  name  for 
fire-fishing,  net-fishing,  etc.  They  always  compounded  words  so 
as  to  express  new  ideas.  Thus,  as  the  Indian  never  kneels,  when 
Eliot,  the  famous  New  England  missionary,  wished  to  translate 
that  thought,  he  was  forced  to  use  a  definition  merely,  and  the 
compound  word  is  eleven  syllables  long — wutappessittukqus- 
sonnoowehtunkquot.  The  Indians  never  said  "  father  "  alone,  but 
always  included  with  it  a  possessive  pronoun.  Consequently  the 
Doxology  used  by  Christian  Indians  reads,  ''  Our  Father,  his  Son, 


THE    NORTH    AMERICAN    INDIANS. 


15 


and  their  Holy  Ghost."  Their  tongues  were  thus  peculiarly  syn- 
thetic, and  often  subject,  predicate,  and  object  were  conjugated 
as  one  word.  The  Cherokee  language  had  but  eighty-five  sylla- 
bles, which  were  analyzed  by  an  educated  Indian  known  as  George 
Guess,  who  assigned  a  character  to  each.  Thus  one  may  learn  to 
read  and  write  this  tongue  in  a  very  short  time.  The  Indians 
had  no  written  language,  though  they  used  on  occasions  a  species 
of  hieroglyphics  or  picture-writing.  A  series  of  rude  symbols 
scratched  on  a  tree  or  rock  gave  any  information  desired. 
Schoolcraft  gives  the  following,  used  by  his  Indian  guides  to 
inform  their  comrades  that  a  company  of  fourteen  whites  and 
two  Indians  had  spent  the  night  at  that  point.  Nos.  9,  10  indi- 
cate the  white  soldiers  and  their  arms  ;  No.  i  is  the  captain,  with 
a  sword  ;  No.  2  the  secretary,  with  the  book ;  No.  3  the  geolo- 
gist, with  a  hammer ;  Nos.  7,  8  are  the  guides,  without  hats ;  Nos. 
II,  12  show  what  they  ate  in  camp ;  Nos.  13,  14,  15  indicate  how 
many  fires  they  made : 


SPECIMEN    OF   INDIAN   PICTURB-WRITING. 


The  Indian  was  a  barbarian.  His  condition  was  that  known 
in  geology  as  the  Stone  Age  of  man,  since  his  implements  and 
tools  were  made  of  that  material.  His  stone  hatchet  was  so  rude 
that  to  cut  down  a  large  forest  tree  would  have  required  a  month's 
time.  He  had  no  horse,  cow,  or  other  domestic  animal  of  burden. 
He  had  no  knowledge  of  any  metals  except  gold,  silver,  and 
copper,  and  these  to  a  very  limited  extent.  Labor  he  considered 
as  degrading,  and  fit  only  for  women.  His  squaw,  therefore, 
built  his  wigwam,  cut  his  wood,  and  carried  his  burdens  when  he 


1 6  EARLY    HISTORY    OF    AMERICA. 

journeyed.  While  he  hunted  or  fished,  she  cleared  the  land  for 
his  corn  by  burning  down  the  trees,  scratched  the  ground  with  a 
crooked  stick  or  hoed  it  with  a  clam-shell,  and  dressed  skins  for 
his  clothing.  She  cooked  his  food  by  dropping  hot  stones  into  a 
tight  willow  basket  containing  materials  for  soup.  The  leavings 
of  her  lord's  feast  sufficed  for  her,  and  the  coldest  place  in  the 
wigwam  was  her  seat.  He  rarely  spoke  to  his  wife  or  children. 
He  would  sit  on  the  ground  for  days,  leaning  his  elbows  on  his 
knees  in  stupid  silence.  He  was  crafty  and  cruel.  His  word  was 
no  protection.  False  and  cunning,  he  never  hesitated  to  violate  a 
treaty  when  his  passions  prompted  him  to  hatred.  He  was  hos- 
pitable, and  the  door  of  his  wigwam  was  always  open  to  any 
comer,  who  had  but  to  enter,  sit  down  at  the  fire,  and  to  be 
served  without  a  word.  He  would  give  up  his  own  mat  or  skin 
that  his  guest  or  a  passing  traveler  might  rest  thereon.  He 
remembered  a  benefit  and  often  saved  his  benefactor  at  the  peril 
of  his  life.  He  loved  to  gain  his  end  by  stratagem  and  rarely 
met  an  enemy  in  fair  fight.  No  victory  was  prized  when  the 
conquest  cost  the  life  of  a  warrior.  He  could  endure  great 
fatigue,  and  in  his  expeditions  often  lay  without  shelter  in  severest 
weather.  It  was  his  glory  to  bear  the  most  horrible  tortures 
without  sign  of  pain. 

An  Indian  wigwam  at  the  best  was  only  a  temporary  shelter. 
It  was  built  of  bark  resting  on  poles,  and  had  an  opening  at  the 
top  to  let  out  the  smoke  and  let  in  the  light.  The  fire  was  built 
on  the  ground  at  the  centre.  The  lodge  was  moved  from  place 
to  place  whenever  fancy  suggested.  The  most  frequent  reason 
was  the  scarcity  of  game  or  fuel.  Indeed,  it  is  said  that  when  the 
whites  first  came  to  this  country  the  Indians  supposed  it  to  be 
because  they  had  consumed  all  the  wood  in  their  own  land,  and 
that  they  were  in  quest  of  fuel.  The  Iroquois  built  larger  and 
more  permanent  dwellings.  These  were  often  thirty  or  forty  and 
sometimes  over  two  hundred  feet  in  length,  each  inhabited  by 
several  families.  Many  of  these  were  irregularly  gathered  in  a 
town,  on  the  bank  of  some  river  or  lake,  where  they  were  fortified, 
perhaps,  by  a  palisade  and  deep  ditch.  '*  A  person  entering  one 
of  these  wigwams  on  a  winter's  evening  might  have  beheld,"  says 
Parkman, ''  a  strange  spectacle  ;  the  vista  of  fires  lighting  the  smoky 
concave ;  the  bronzed  groups  encircling  each — cooking,  eating, 
gambling,  or  amusing  themselves  with  idle  badinage ;  wrinkled 
squaws,  hideous  with  three-score  years  of  hardship  ;  grizzly  old 


THE    NORTH    AMERICAN    INDIANS. 


17 


warriors,  scarred  with  war-club  and  tomahawk ;  young  aspirants, 
whose  honors  were  yet  to  be  won ;  damsels,  gay  with  ochre  and 
wampum ;  and  restless  children,  pell-mell  with  restless  dogs. 
Now  a  tongue  of  resinous  flame  painted  each  wild  feature  in  vivid 
light ;  now  the  fitful  gleam  expired,  and  the  group  vanished  from 
sight  as  the  nation  has  from  history." 


INDIAN    LIFE. 


The  Indians  married  young,  the  girls  at  thirteen  or  fourteen, 
and  the  boys  by  eighteen.  Meanwhile  the  latter  were  required 
to  show  their  manhood  by  long  endurance  of  famine  and  by 
bringing  in  plenty  of  game.  A  marriageable  girl  wore  an  adver- 
tisement of  the  fact  upon  her  head.  The  marriage  ceremony 
often  consisted  of  nothing  more  than  the  bride's  bringing  to  the 
bridegroom  a  dish  of  cooked  corn  and  an  armful  of  fuel. 

War  and  the  chase  were  the  natural  state  of  the  Indian.  The 
battle-field  and  the  hunting-ground  contained  everything  of 
special  honor  or  value.  The  bow  was  placed  in  the  boy's  hands 
as  soon  as  he  could  grasp  it.  His  training  henceforth  was  to 
shoot  the  arrow,  to  glide  upon  the  snow-shoe,  to  hurl  the  toma- 
hawk, and  to  cast  the  spear.  To  dance  the  war-dance,  to  sing  the 
war-song,  to  go  forth  on  the  war-path,  to  lie  in  wait  for  his 
enemy,  and  to  bring  back  the  scalp  of  one  whom  he  had  slain,  were 


i8 


EARLY    HISTORY    OF    AMERICA. 


his  highest  delight.  Two  or  three  warriors  roaming  through 
the  forest,  with  only  a  bag  of  pounded  corn  hanging  at  the  side 
for  food,  would  watch  a  hostile  village  or  party  for  weeks,  hiding 
in  rocks  or  thickets,  awaiting  a  chance  for  a  surprise,  to  assassi- 
nate a  defenceless  man,  woman,  or  child  ;  then  hastily  cutting  off 
the  scalp,  as  proof  of  their  prowess,  would  hurry  home  again  in 
triumph.  The  war  party  marched  in  single  file,  the  chief  in 
advance,  while  the  last  one  erased  the  tracks  they  had  made.  A 
captive  was  often  brutally  mangled  before  reaching  the  village  of 


AN   INDIAN   FAMILY  MOVING. 


his  captors.  Here  he  was  obliged  to  run  the  gauntlet  between  a 
double  row  of  its  entire  population,  who  turned  out  to  receive 
him,  each  inflicting  a  blow  as  he  passed.  The  council  decided 
his  fate.  He  might  be  adopted  into  some  family,  to  supply  the 
place  of  a  lost  member,  or  be  sentenced  to  the  torture.  This  was 
too  horrible  for  description.  The  body  was  gashed  with  knives, 
the  hair  and  beard  were  torn  out,  the  fingers  and  toes  were 
wrenched  off,  the  flesh  was  seared  with  red-hot  stones  and  punc- 
tured with  sharpened  sticks ;  and  finally  the  bleeding,  mangled 
body  was  tied  to  a  stake  and  burned  to  ashes.  "W  hile  life  lasted 
the  victim  of  their  cruelty  uttered  no  groan,  but  sang  the  war- 
song  of  his  clan,  boasted  of  his  exploits,  told  the  names  of  those 
whom  he  had  slain,  and  taunted  them  with  their  unskilfulness  in 
devising  tortures  in  comparison  with  those  which  he  had  himself 
inflicted  on  their  kinsmen. 


1492.]  DISCOVERY    OF    AMERICA.  I9 

The  religion  of  the  Indian  varied  greatly  in  different  tribes. 
Those  of  New  England  had  no  word  for  God,  and  there  is  no 
evidence  of  a  religious  ceremony  among  them.  The  Iroquois 
had  faith  in  a  Great  Spirit,  and  in  happy  hunting-grounds  where 
the  departed  warrior  might  hope  to  hunt  and  feast  and  be  as  lazy 
as  he  pleased.  The  Natchez  had  temples  for  the  worship  of  the 
sun,  and  sacred  fires  which  were  never  allowed  to  expire.  The 
Indians  believed  in  protecting  spirits,  who  cared  not  alone  for 
human  beings  but  even  for  animals.  They  were  cautious  about 
giving  them  any  offence,  frequently  offering  them  gifts  to  pro- 
pitiate their  favor.  They  handled  carefully  the  bones  of  beaver, 
buffalo,  deer,  and  other  game,  lest  the  spirits  of  the  dead  might 
inform  those  of  the  living,  and  teach  them  to  escape  the  hunter's 
toils.  They  would  often  talk  to  animals  as  if  they  were  human 
beings,  and  beg  their  pardon  for  having  wounded  them,  explain- 
ing the  necessity  which  compelled  the  attack,  and  exhorting  the 
sufferer  to  endure  the  pain  so  as  not  to  bring  disgrace  on  his 
family.  The  Indian  invoked  the  aid  of  these  various  powers, 
whose  presence  he  acknowledged  in  nature,  and  implicitly  relied 
on  their  protection.  He  was  anxious  to  have  such  a  guardian  for 
himself.  The  young  Chippewa,  for  example,  retired  to  a  solitary 
lodge  in  the  forest,  blackened  his  face,  and  fasted  for  days,  that  he 
might  become  pure  and  exalted  enough  to  behold  in  a  vision  his 
protecting  deity.  Everywhere  there  was  an  idea  of  sin  which 
was  to  be  atoned  for,  of  the  duty  of  self-denial  and  sacrifice,  and 
of  rewards  and  punishments  for  good  and  evil.  So  prevalent  was 
this  sentiment  that  Le  Clercq  thought  one  of  the  apostles  must 
have  reached  America  and  taught  the  Indians  the  sublime 
truths  of  Revelation. 


DIgCOVEF(Y    OF    AJVIERICA. 

As  early  as  the  tenth  century,  the  Northmen  settled  Green- 
land, whence,  according  to  the  Icelandic  Sagas,  their  venture- 
some sailors  pushed  westward,  discovering  Newfoundland,  Nova 
Scotia,  and  Vinland  or  Vineland,  which  is  generally  supposed  to 
be  the  coast  of  New  England.  After  that,  other  adventurers 
repeatedly  visited  the  New  World,  explored  the  country,  and 
bartered   with  the  natives.     A  rich  Icelander,  named  Thorfinn 


20 


THE    EARLY    HISTORY    OF    AMERICA. 


[1492. 


NORMAN  SHIP   (FROM  THE   BAYEUX  TAPESTRY). 


Karlsefni,   spent   three   winters    on   the  coast   of  Massachusetts, 
where  his  wife  bore  him  a  son  named  Snorre,   said  to  be  the 

first  child  born  of  Euro- 
pean parents  in  this  coun- 
try. The  Northmen,  how- 
ever, finally  forgot  the 
way  across  the  ocean, 
and  almost  the  existence 
of  the  Vinland  their  an- 
cestors had  discovered. 
They  left  behind  them, 
so  far  as  we  know,  not  a 
trace  of  their  occupation, 
and  were  it  not  for  their 
legends,  we  should  not 
have  dreamed  that  they 
ever  visited  our  shores. 
The  old  stone  tower  at 
Newport,  Rhode  Island, 
long  thought  to  have  been  erected  by  the  Norsemen,  is  very  like 
some  which  are  still  standing  in  the  part  of  England  from  which 
Governor  Arnold  came ;  while  the  singular  inscription  on  the 
rock  at  Dighton  was  quite  probably  made  by  the  Indians. 

Centuries  passed  in  which  no  vessel  essayed  the  forgotten 
•assage  across  the  far-stretching  Atlantic.  The  shadows  of  the 
Middle  Ages  were  dispersed,  and  Europe 
was  kindling  with  newly  awakened  life. 
The  Crusades  had  developed  the  mari- 
time importance  of  such  Italian  cities  as 
Genoa,  Pisa,  and  Venice.  A  taste  for 
luxury  had  grown  and  strengthened. 
The  art  of  printing  by  movable  types 
had  just  been  invented,  and  books  of 
travel  were  eagerly  read.  Marco  Polo 
and  other  eastern  travelers  had  told  the 
most  marvelous  stories  of  Asiatic  coun- 
tries, of  "  Cathay"  (China)  and  the  good- 
liest island  of  "  Cipango  "  (Japan),  where 
the  soil  sparkled  with  rubies  and  diamonds,  and  pearls  were  as 
plentiful  as  pebbles.  An  extensive  trade  had  been  opened  up  with 
the  East.     The  shawls,  spices,  precious  stones,  and  silks  of  India 


THE   ANCIENT  TOWER  AT  NEWPORT. 


1492.] 


DISCOVERY    OF    AMERICA. 


21 


and  Persia  were  brought  to  Europe,  and  sold  in  the  Western  marts. 
But  the  route  was  tedious.  The  goods  were  borne  by  caravans 
to  the  Red  Sea,  carried  by  camels  to  the  Nile,  and  thence  shipped 
across  the  Mediterranean  to  Italy.  The  problem  of  the  age  was 
how  to  reach  the  East  by  sea,  and  thus  transport  these  rich  pro- 
ducts in  ships  directly  to  Europe.  The  earth  was  generally  be- 
lieved to  be  a  great  flat  plain,  washed  on  every  side  by  one  vast 
ocean.  A  few  wise  geographers  had  already  conceived  the  novel 
idea  of  its  rotundity.  But,  in  their  calculations  the  globe  was 
very  much  smaller  than  we  now  know  it  to  be,  and  Asia  extended 
much  further  to  the  east ;  so,  by  sailing  westward  from  Europe 
they  expected,  perhaps  by  a  short  voyage,  to  reach  the  eastern 
shore  of  their  own  continent,  which  was  to  them  the  only  one  in 
the  world.  ^*  It  is  singular,"  says  Washington  Irving,  "  how  much 
the  success  of  this  great  undertaking  depended  upon  two  happy 
errors,  the  imaginary  extent  of  Asia  to 
the  East,  and  the  supposed  smallness 
of  the  earth  ;  both,  errors  of  the  most 
learned  and  profound  philosophers, 
but  without  which  Columbus  would 
hardly  have  ventured  upon  his  en- 
terprise." Christopher  Columbus,  a 
learned  navigator  of  Genoa,  enthusi- 
astically adopted  these  views.  Many 
events  conspired  to  confirm  his  belief. 
A  globe,  published  by  Martin  Behaim, 
one  of  Columbus's  friends,  in  1492 — the 
very  year  Columbus  made  his  west- 
ward voyage — shows  very  clearly  the  current  idea  at  that  time. 
It  is  curious  to  notice  how  in  this  map  the  dry  details  of  geography 
are  -  enlivened  by  mermaids  with  golden  tresses  and  azure  eyes, 
sea-serpents,  and  various  monsters  supposed  to  inhabit  these  un- 
known regions. 

A  westerly  gale  washed  on  the  coast  of  Portugal  a  piece  of 
curiously  carved  wood.  At  the  Madeiras,  canes  of  a  tropical 
growth  were  picked  up  on  the  beach,  and  once  the  bodies  of  two 
men  of  an  unknown  race  were  cast  upon  the  shore.  At  last, 
Columbus  determined  to  test  the  new  theory  by  actually  under- 
taking the  perilous  voyage.  Eighteen  years  of  weary  waiting 
followed.  He  sought  aid  in  Genoa,  Venice,  and  Portugal ;  but  in 
vain.     Finally,  after  innumerable  repulses,  he  obtained  an  audience 


^^^^i^^M^L     S. 


^Kv,% 


COLUMBUS. 


22 


EARLY    HISTORY    OF    AMERICA. 


[1492. 


THE  EASTERN  HEMISPHERE.— /V^w  BehainCs  Glche^  1492. 

with  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  of  Spain.  His  demands  seeming 
extravagant,  he  was  refused.  He  left  the  court,  and  was  already 
two  leagues  away,  when  Isabella,  convinced  of  the  grandeur  of 
his  scheme,  called  him  back  and  pledged  her  own  jewels  to  raise 
the  necessary  funds.  This  sacrifice,  however,  was  not  needed,  as 
the  court  treasurer  advanced  money  for  the  outfit.  Three  ships 
were  equipped — the  Santa  Maria,  the  Pinta,  and  the  Nina.  The 
first  only  was  decked,  the  other  two  being  merely  open  boats,  or 
caravels.  The  sailors  were  many  of  them  impressed,  the  bravest 
seamen  shrinking  from  this  hazardous  undertaking.  Columbus 
sailed  from  Palos,  August  3,  1492.  Touching  only  at  the  Cana- 
ries, he  struck  out  boldly  to  the  west. 

Forty  days  had  come  and  gone.     Fresh  terrors  were  born  in 
the  hearts  of  his  fearful  crew.     All  the  laws  of  nature  seemed 


1492.] 


DISCOVERY    OF    AMERICA. 


23 


THE  WESTERN  HEMISPHERE.— i^row  Behatnt's  Globe,  149a. 

changing.  The  needle  no  longer  pointed  to  the  star  in  the  north, 
and  they  were  alone,  without  a  guide,  in  the  vast,  trackless  ocean. 
The  trade-winds  blew  them  steadily  westward,  and  there  was  no 
hope  of  returning  against  it.  They  came  into  the  Sargasso  Sea, 
and  now  they  should  certainly  perish  in  the  stagnant  waters. 
At  times,  signs  of  land  appeared,  and  their  hearts  revived  as  they 
saw  in  the  distant  horizon  the  semblance  of  a  shore.  But  it  was 
only  the  clouds  which  mocked  their  hopes,  and  which  faded  away, 
leaving  them  still  on  a  boundless  sea.  Still  the  days  came  and 
went,  and  still  their  prows,  westward  bent,  pointed  only  to 

"  Long  ridgy  waves  their  white  manes  rearing, 
And  in  the  broad  gleam  disappearing ; 
The  broadened,  blazing  sun  declining, 
And  western  waves,  like  fire-floods,  shining.'* 


( 


24 


EARLY    HISTORY    OF    AMERICA. 


[1492. 


COLUMBUS   DISCOVERING   LAND. 


At  last  they  became  turbu- 
lent and  clamorous.  They 
exclaimed  against  Colum- 
bus as  a  wild  fanatic.  They 
thought  of  their  far-away 
homes,  and  demanded  a 
return   from   this   hopeless 

voyage.     They  even  resolved  to  throw  the  admiral  overboard  if 

he  persisted  in  a  refusal.    But  his  iron  will  beat  down  their  feebler 

purposes,  and  he   sternly  reminded 

them  that  the  expedition  had  been 

sent    out    to    seek  the    Indies,   and 

added  that,  happen  what  might,  by 

God's  blessing,  he  should  persevere 

until  he  accomplished  the  enterprise. 
The  very  next  day  brought  new 

hope.      Fresh -water  weeds   floated 

past  their  ships;  a  branch  of  thorn 

with  berries  on  it ;  and,  above  all,  a 

carved  staff",  which  they  eagerly  ex- 
amined. Not  only  land,  but  inhab- 
ited land  was  before  them.     In  the 

evening,  Columbus,  standing  on  the 

prow  of  his  vessel,  saw  a  light  faintly 

glimmering  in  the  horizon.     At  two  ^  ^^^^^^^  ,^^^^^, 

in      the     morning,     a     shot     from     the     (From  a  drawing  attributed  to  Columbus.] 


1492.] 


DISCOVERY    OF    AMERICA. 


2S 


Pinta  announced  the  joyful  intelligence  that  land  was  in  sight. 
The  dream  of  Columbus  was  realized  at  last.  On  that  mem- 
orable Friday  morning,  October  12,  1492,  a  shore,  green  with 
tropical  verdure,  lay  smiling  before  him.  The  perfume  of  flowers 
filled  the  air,  and  beautiful  birds  hovered  round  singing,  as  it  were, 
''  the  songs  of  the  angels."  Clad  in  scarlet,  and  bearing  in  his 
hand  the  royal  banner  of  Spain,  he  stepped  upon  the  land,  kissing 
it  in  an  overflow  of  joy  and  gratitude.  Thanking  God  for  His 
goodness,  and  planting  the  sacred  cross,  he  took  formal  posses- 
sion of  the  country  in  the  name  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella.  He 
called  the  island  San  Salvador.     Believing  that  he  had  reached 


COLUMBUS     TAKING     POSSESSION. 


the  islands  lying  off"  the  eastern  coast  of  India,  he  named  them 
the  West  Indies,  and  the  simple  natives  who  flocked  down  to 
the  shore  to  witness  his  arrival  he  called  Indians.  Afterward 
Columbus  visited  Cuba  and  Hayti.  He  actually  sent  an  envoy 
to  a  chief  in  the  interior  of  Cuba,  supposing  him  to  be  the  king 
of  Tartary.     Hayti  he  thought  to  be  the  Ophir  of  Solomon. 

On  his  return  to  Spain,  Columbus  was  received  with  the  great- 
est enthusiasm.  He  was  accorded  the  rare  honor  of  telling  his 
story  seated  in  the  presence  of  the  king  and  queen.  When  he 
dilated  upon  the  plants,  birds,  gold,  and,  above  all,  the  natives  who 
might  yet  be  converted  to  the  true  faith,  the  two  sovereigns  fell 
upon  their  knees,  while  the  choir  sang  a  hymn  of  thanksgiving. 


26 


EARLY    HISTORY    OF    AMERICA. 


[1498. 


TOMB  OF  COLUMBUS  AT  HAVANA. 


Columbus  afterward  made  three  other  voyages  of  discovery. 
In  1498  he  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Orinoco,  which  he  con- 
sidered the  great  river  Gihon,  having 
its  source  in  the  Garden  of  Eden.  His 
good  fortune,  however,  had  long  since 
deserted  him.  Malice  and  envy  did 
their  worst.  He  was  sent  home  from 
Hispaniola  in  chains,  and  died  at  last 
a  worn-out,  disgraced  old  man,  igno- 
rant of  the  fact  that  he  had  discovered 
a  New  World. 

Meanwhile,  to  other  European  eyes 
than  those  of  Columbus  had  been  grant- 
ed the  first  sight  of  the  mainland.  John 
Cabot,  a  Venetian,  sailing  under  a  com- 
mission from  Henry  VII.  of  England, 
discovered  Cape  Breton,  probably  in 
1494.  He,  however,  like  Columbus, 
was  seeking  the  route  to  the  Indies,  and  supposed  this  to  be  the 
territory  of  the  "  Great  Cham,"  king  of  Tartary.  Sebastian  Cabot 
continued  his  father's  explorations,  and  sailed  along  the  coast  as 
far  south  as  Maryland.  He  became  convinced  that  it  was  not  the 
eastern  coast  of  Asia,  but  a  new  continent,  that  had  been  discov- 
ered. As  Vasco  de  Gama,  a  Portuguese,  about  this  time  (1498) 
rounded  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  and  found  the  long-sought  way 
to  the  East,  little  attention  was  paid  to  the  discoveries  of  Cabot. 
"  He  gave  a  continent  to  England,"  says  Biddle,  "  yet  no  man  can 
point  to  the  few  feet  of  earth  she  has  allowed  him  in  return." 
The  New  World  was  not  destined  to  receive  its  name  from  either 
Cabot  or  Columbus.  Amerigo  Vespucci,  an  Italian  navigator, 
and  a  friend  of  Columbus,  accompanied  an  expedition  which 
reached  the  continent,  and  on  his  return  wrote  some  letters  de- 
scribing his  discoveries.  These  were  published  by  a  German 
geographer,  who  proposed  that  the  new  country  should  be  called 
America,  in  honor  of  his  hero.  People  liked  the  name,  and  it 
goon  came  into  general  use. 


CHAPTER    II 


EX(PL0(kAT10J^S  AJ^(1)   SETTLEMEJ^TS. 


D VENTURERS,  thirsting  for  gold  and  glory, 
now  flocked  to  America — the  land  of  wonder 
and  mystery.  Spanish,  French,  and  English 
were  eager  to  explore  this  new  and  richer 
Cathay.  Ponce  de  Leon,  an  aged  cava- 
lier, sailed  in  search  of  a  miraculous  foun- 
tain said  to  exist  somewhere  in  the  regions 
discovered  by  Columbus,  whose  magical 
waters,  flowing  over  beds  of  gold  and 
gems,  would  ensure  to  the  old  a  second 
youth  and  vigor.  He  did  not  find  the  fountain,  but  he  came 
in  sight  of  a  land  blooming  with  flowers.  It  was  Easter  Sun- 
day (15 12),  a  day  which  the  Spaniards  call  Pascua  Florida,  or 
Flowery  Easter.  So  he  gave  the  name  Florida  to  this  beautiful 
region. 

The  following  year  Balboa  crossed  the  Isthmus  of  Darien,  and 
from  the  top  of  the  Andes  first  caught  sight  of  the  wide  expanse 
of  the  Pacific  Ocean  glittering  in  the  morning  sun.  Reverently 
kneeling,  he  thanked  God  for  the  wonderful  vision.  Descending 
to  the  shore,  he  waded  into  the  water,  bearing  his  drawn  sword 
in  one  hand  and  the  banner  of  Castile  in  the  other,  taking  pos- 
session of  the  ocean,  and  all  the  coasts  washed  by  its  waters,  for 
the  crown  of  Spain. 

Cortez,  with  a  handful  of  followers,  took  possession  of  Mexico 
and  all  the  fabulous  wealth  of  the  Montezumas.  Pizarro  con- 
quered Peru,  and  revelled  in  the  riches  of  the  Incas. 

De  Soto,  with  a  chosen  band,  explored  the  fastnesses  of 
Florida,  hoping  to  find  *'  a  second  Mexico  with  its  royal  palace 
and  sacred  pyramids,  or  another  Cuzco  with  its  Temple  of  the 
Sun  enriched  with  a  frieze  of  gold."     Gay  cavaliers  with  helmet 


28 


EARLY    HISTORY    OF    AMERICA. 


[1541. 


and  lance,  priests  with  holy  vestments  and  vessels,  marched 
through  the  wilderness  for  years.  With  the  fluttering  of  ban- 
ners and  the  clangor  of  trumpets,  they  followed  the  ignis  fatuus 


DE  SOTO'S  MARCH, 


of  gold  and  treasure  they  hoped  to  find.  Thus  they  traversed 
Georgia,  Alabama,  and  Mississippi.  In  1541  they  discovered  the 
Mississippi  River.     Beneath  its  muddy  waters  De  Soto  himself 

found  a  grave.  It  was  all  the  New 
World  had  to  give  its  most  knightly 
adventurer. 

The  French  eagerly  followed  in 
the  footsteps  of  the  Spaniards. 
Verazzani,  a  Florentine  in  the  ser- 
vice of  Francis  I.,  coasted  along  the 
shores  of  Carolina  and  New  Jersey, 
and  entered  the  present  harbors 
of  Newport  and  New  York.  He 
named  the  country  New  France, 
and  claimed  it  all  for  his  king. 
The  report  published  on  his  re- 
turn was  the  earliest  account  given  of  the  eastern  coast  of  the 
United  States.      He  thought  the  savages  were  "like  the  people 


JACQUES   CARTIER. 


1534.] 


FRENCH    EXPLORATIONS. 


29 


in  the  uttermost  parts  of  China,"  and  that  the  country  was  ''  not 
void  of  drugs  and  spices  and  other  riches  of  gold,  seeing  that  the 
color  of  the  land  doth  so  much 
argue  it."  In  1534,  Cartier  dis- 
covered a  magnificent  river, 
which,  the  next  year,  he  ascended 
to  the  present  site  of  Montreal.  In 
honor  of  the  day,  he  named  the 
part  of  the  gulf  he  entered,  St. 
Lawrence — a  term  that  has  since 
spread  to  the  river  and  the  rest 
of  the  gulf. 

Coligny,  the  famous  French 
admiral,  formed  a  plan  of  found- 
ing an  empire  in  the  New  World 
which  should  offer  an  asylum  to 
the  distressed  Huguenots.  It  was  to  be  a  colony  based  on 
religious  ideas.     This  was  half  a  century  before   the   Piignms 


ADMIRAL  COLIGNY. 


30 


EXPLORATIONS    AND    SETTLEMENTS. 


[1562. 


landed  at  Plymouth.  The  attempt  seemed  full  of  promise,  *'  but 
no  Mayflower  ever  sailed  from  a  French  port."  Jean  Ribaut 
commanded  the  first  expedition  (1562).  He  landed  at  Port  Royal. 
The  company  were  delighted  with  the  novelty  of  the  wild  forest 
scenes.  The  new  land  seemed  to  them  '*  the  finest,  fruitfulest,  and 
pleasantest  of  all  the  world."  A  fort  was  erected,  and  named 
Carolina,  after  Charles  IX.  of  France.  Thirty  men  were  selected 
to  remain,  while  Ribaut  returned  to  France.  This  little  party 
was  now  alone  with  the  savage  and  the  wilderness.  They  found 
no  gold.  Hunger  came,  and  home-sickness.  The  green  woods 
became  a  dismal  prison,  and  the  solitude  a  terror.  They  resolved 
to  escape  at  every  peril.  Building  a  frail  bark,  they  turned  the 
prow  toward  France.  A  storm  shattered  their  ship.  At  last,  to 
avoid  starvation,  they  killed  and  ate  one  of  their  own  number, 
whom  the  lot  decided  should  die  for  the  rest.  This  horrible  food 
only  prolonged  their  lives  for  a  new  misfortune.  After  perils 
and  sufferings  untold,  they  had  just  come  in  sight  of  their  own 
cherished  coast  when  they  were  taken  prisoners  and  carried  to 
England. 

Two  years  afterward  a  second  attempt  was  made  by  Laudon- 
ni^re,  and  a  fort  built  on  St.  John's  River,  or  the  River  of  May,  as 
they  styled  it.     Here  his  company  of  adventurers,  greedy  of  gain 

and  of  gold,  quar- 
reled among  them- 
selves, fought  with 
the  Indians,  and, 
too  lazy  to  till  the 
land,  starved  as 
easily  and  slowly 
as  they  could. 
But  the  Spanish 
were  by  riO  means 
willing  to  relin- 
quish their  claim 
to  Florida — as  all 
North  America 
was  at  that  time 


THE   OLD    GATEWAY   AT  ST.    AUGUSTINE,    FLORIDA. 


called  by  them. 
Melendez,  a  brutal  soldier,  was  sent  by  Philip  II.  to  occupy  Florida 
and  drive  out  the  French.  They  sighted  land  on  St.  Augustine's 
day  (August  28,  1565).     The  foundations  of  a  town,  now  the  oldest 


1565.]  ENGLISH    EXPLORATIONS.  3I 

in  the  United  States,  were  soon  laid  and  named  in  honor  of  that 
saint.  Burning  with  zeal,  Menendez,  with  five  hundred  soldiers, 
then  hurried  northward  through  the  wilderness,  and  in  the  midst 
of  a  terrible  tempest  attacked  the  French  fort  and  massacred 
nearly  all  the  colonists. 

Charles  IX.  did  nothing  to  avenge  the  deed.  A  bold  Gascon, 
Dominique  de  Gourges,  however,  equipped  a  fleet  at  his  own 
expense,  sailed  across  the  ocean,  stormed  the  Spanish  forts  on 
the  River  of  May,  and  put  the  garrison  to  the  sword,  under  the 
very  trees  where  they  had  slaughtered  the  captured  Huguenots. 
Thus  ended,  for  a  time,  the  French  attempts  in  the  New  World. 

During  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  the  English  made 
repeated  efforts  to  explore  and  colonize  this  country.  Frobisher, 
seeking  in  vain  to  find  the  northwest  passage  to  India,  entered 
Baffin's  Bay,  and  claimed  the  whole  country  for  the  crown  of 
England.  Drake,  following  in  the  footsteps  of  Magellan,  rounded 
Cape  Horn,  ascended  the  western  shore  of  America  as  far  as 
the  present  boundary  of  Oregon,  and,  returning,  refitted  his 
ship  in  some  harbor  of  California  (1579).  Sir  Humphrey  Gilbert 
sought  to  establish  a  colony  in  Newfoundland.  Returning  home 
in  the  Squirrel,  a  little  bark  of  ten  tons,  it  was  overtaken  by  a 
fearful  storm.  Sitting  aft,  with  a  book  in  his  hand,  Gilbert  was 
heard  to  cry  out  to  his  companions  in  the  other  ship,  "We  are 
as  near  Heaven  by  sea  as  by  land."  That  night  the  lights  of  the 
Squirrel  suddenly  disappeared,  and  neither  ship  nor  sailors  were 
ever  seen  again.  Gilbert's  half-brother,  the  famous  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh,  having  secured  a  patent  for  a  vast  extent  of  territory 
which  he  called  Virginia,  in  honor  of  the  "Virgin  Queen"  of 
England,  made  several  unsuccessful  attempts  to  establish  settle- 
ments therein.  The  first  colony  was  planted  on  Roanoke  Island 
(1585).  Instead  of  tilling  the  ground^  the  settlers  hunted  for  gold. 
Finding  none,  they  were  only  too  glad  to  return  home  with 
Drake,  who  happened  to  stop  there  on  one  of  his  buccaneering 
expeditions.  They  brought  back  with  them  the  weed  which  the 
lethargic  Indians  used  for  smoking,  and  the  custom  of  "  drinking 
tobacco,"  as  it  was  called,  soon  became  exceedingly  popular,  in 
spite  of  the  anathemas  of  the  physicians,  the  Puritans,  and  even 
of  King  James  himself,  who  wrote  a  tract  against  its  use.  It  is 
said  that  one  day,  when  Raleigh  was  sitting  in  his  study  privately 
practicing  this  new  accomplishment,  his  servant  entered  with  a 
tankard  of  ale.     Seeing  his  master  with  a  cloud  of  smoke  issuing 


32 


EXPLORATIONS    AND    SETTLEMENTS. 


[1587. 


from  his  mouth,  the  terrified  domestic  dashed  the  ale  in  his  face  as 
a  partial  extinguisher,  and  rushed  down  the  stairs  screaming  for 
instant  help,  for  Sir  Walter  would  soon  be  burnt  to  ashes. 

Another  colony 
was  now  sent  to 
Virginia.  It  hap- 
pily consisted  of 
families.  The  pre- 
sence of  woman 
brought  cheerful- 
ness and  beauty, 
and  in  the  pros- 
pect of  home  cir- 
cles and  influence 
it  bade  fair  to  be 
permanent.  The 
"  City  of  Raleigh  " 
was  founded  on 
the  site  of  the 
former  settlement. 
A  faithful  Indian 
chief  was  here  bap- 
tized and  received  the  rank  of  a  feudal 
baron — Lord  of  Roanoke.  Here,  also, 
was  born  the  first  child  of  English  parents  on 
the  soil  of  the  United  States — Virginia  Dare,  grand-daughter  of 
Governor  White.  The  threatened  invasion  of  the  Armada  occu- 
pying the  attention  of  England,  it  was  three  years  before  supplies 
were  sent  out  to  the  infant  colony.  When  at  last  the  long-delayed 
ship  sailed  into  the  harbor  she  found  it  silent  as  the  grave. 
The  homes  were  all  deserted,  and  not  a  living  thing  remained 
to  tell  the  fate  of  their  once  hopeful  occupants.  On  the 
trunk  of  a  tree  was  found  carved  the  name  of  a  distant  island, 
Croatan.  The  lateness  of  the  season  forbade  any  attempt  to  seek 
the  island,  and,  appalled  by  the  desolation  and  ruin  which  they 
beheld,  the  fleet  returned  without  leaving  a  settler  behind.  To 
this  day  the  "  Lost  Colony  of  Roanoke  "  remains  a  mystery. 

A  century  had  now  passed  since  the  discovery  of  America,  but 
ae  yet  neither  English  nor  French  had  planted  a  permanent  colony, 
save  in  the  graves  of  their  heroic  adventurers.  The  Spaniards 
had,  north  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  only  a  feeble   settlement  at 


1600.] 


SETTLEMENT    OF    VIRGINIA. 


33 


St.  Augustine  and  another  at 

Santa    F6.      The    difficulties 

which  attended  the   passage 

of  the  Atlantic,  the  perils  of 

the  wilderness,  the  treachery 

of  the  Indians,  all  conspix^ed  to  prevent  the  rapid  colonization  of 

the   New  World.      The  experience  of  every  attempt   could  be 

summed  up  in  the  quaint  language  of  the  English  company  under 

Captain  Popham,  "  We  found  only  extreme  extremities." 

Early  in  the  seventeenth  century,  several  successful  trading 
voyages  called  the  attention  of  English  merchants  and  noblemen 
to  the  question  of  iVmerican  colonization.  King  James  I.  accord- 
ingly divided  the  vast  territory  called  Virginia,  extending  from 
Cape  Fear  to  Passamaquoddy  Bay,  between  two  rival  companies, 
the  London  and  the  Plymouth.  The  former  was  to  have  the 
southern,  and  the  latter  the  northern  portion;  and,  to  prevent 
disputes,  their  settlements  were  to  be  at  least  one  hundred  miles 
apart.  All  the  region  south  of  this  grant  was  known  as  Florida, 
and  all  north,  as  New  France.  A  book  of  the  time  defines  Vir- 
ginia as  "  that  country  of  the  earth  which  the  ancients  called 
Mormosa,  between  Florida  and  New  France." 
3 


34 


EXPLORATIONS    AND    SETTLEMENTS. 


[1607. 


gETTtZ:j\1ENT    OF    V1F(Q1JN1A. 

On  April  26,  1607,  a  fleet  of  three  vessels  sent  out  by  the 
London  Company  entered  Chesapeake  Bay.  Captain  John 
Smith,  afterward  called  "  The  Father  of  Virginia,"  was  on  board, 
but  in  chains,  a  victim  to  the  jealousy  of  meaner  men.  As  they 
rode  into  that  magnificent  harbor,  they  passed  two  headlands, 
which  they  called  Charles  and  Henry,  after  their  young  princes 
at  home.  The  good  anchorage  inside  suggested  the  name  Old 
Point  Comfort,  and  the  noble  stream  they  now  ascended  was 
styled  James  River,  after  the  king.     Their  first  settlement  was 

also  loyally  christened  James- 
town. The  crumbling,  ivy- 
clad  church  tower  still  stand- 
ing on  the  banks  of  the  James, 
about  fifty  miles  from  its  mouth, 
marks  the  site  of  the  oldest  Eng- 
lish settlement  in  the  United 
States.  The  colonists  were 
poorly  qualified  for  the  work 
they  had  undertaken.  There 
were  no  families,  yet  they  were 
to  establish  homes  in  the  wil- 
derness. There  were  houses 
to  build,  yet  they  numbered 
only  four  carpenters  to  forty- 
eight  labor -despising  gentle- 
men.  They  were  to  lay  the 
foundations  of  a  colony,  yet  they  had  but  twelve  laborers.  The 
first  year,  the  gentlemen  spent  their  time  in  searching  for  gold, 
when  they  should  have  been  planting  corn.  Food  soon  became 
scarce.  Before  autumn,  sickness  swept  away  half  their  number. 
Wingfield,  the  president  of  fhe  council  appointed  by  the  king  for 
their  government,  was  unfaithful  and  avaricious,  and  even  tried 
to  escape  to  the  Indies  with  the  best  of  their  scanty  stores. 

Smith,  by  the  power  of  his  genius,  now  rose  to  command. 
"He  proved  more  wakeful  to  gather  provisions  than  the  covet- 
ous were  to  find  gold ;  and  strove  to  keep  the  country  more  than 
the  faint-hearted  to  abandon  it."  He  declared  that  "He  who 
will  not  work  may  not  eat."     He  was  the  first  to  clearly  compre« 


THE   RUINS   AT  JAMESTOWN. 


1607.] 


SETTLEMENT    OF    VIRGINIA. 


35 


hend  that  nothing  was  to  be  gained  by  the  colony  except  through 
labor.  He  taught  the  gentlemen  to  swing  the  axe  until  they 
became  accomplished  wood-cutters.  Enforcing  morality  as  well 
as  industry,  he  kept  an  account  of  all  profanity,  and  at  night 
poured  a  cup  of  cold  water  down  the  sleeves  of  the  offenders. 
Yet  the  colonists,  we  are  told,  "  built  a  church  that  cost  fifty 
pounds  and  a  tavern  that  cost  five  hundred."  Smith  wrote  home : 
''  I  entreat  you  rather  send  but  thirty  carpenters,  husbandmen, 
gardeners,  fishermen,  blacksmiths,  masons,  and  diggers -up  of 
trees'  roots  than  a  thousand  such  as  we  have." 


SMITH   SHOWING   HIS   COMPASS  TO  THE   INDIANS. 


Meanwhile,  Smith  made  many  expeditions,  cultivating  the 
friendship  of  the  Indians,  exploring  the  country,  and  bringing 
back  supplies  of  food  for  the  colony.  He  went  northward  as  far 
as  Maine,  and  on  one  of  his  maps  the  names  "  Plymouth  "  and 
''Cape  Ann"  first  appear.  In  an  expedition  up  the  Chesapeake, 
he  was  taken  prisoner  by  the  Indians.  With  great  coolness  he 
amused  his  captors  by  an  astronomical  lecture,  exhibiting  his 
compass,  and  showing  them  how  "  the  sun  did  chase  the  night 
round  about  the  world  continually."  They  allowed  him  to  send 
letters  to  Jamestown,  and,  having  no  idea  of  a  written  language 
themselves,  were  astonished  at  his  making  the  paper  talk  to  his 
friends  of  his  condition.  With  commendable  forethought,  the  gun- 
powder taken  from  him  was  carefully  laid  aside  for  planting  the 


36 


EXPLORATIONS    AND    SETTLEMENTS. 


[1608. 


next  year.  The  illustrious  captive  was  carried  from  place  to  place 
over  the  same  peninsula  since  rendered  famous  by  McClellan's 
campaign.  On  being  brought  to  the  great  chief  Powhatan,  his 
good  fortune  seemed  to  fail  him,  and  he  was  condemned  to  die. 
According  to  Smith's  account,  his  head  was  laid  on  a  stone,  and 
the  Indian's  war-club  was  raised  to  strike  the  final  blow,  when 
Pocahontas,  the  young  daughter  of  the  chief,  whose  love  the  cap- 
tive had  won,  rushed  forward,  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck 
and  arrested  the  descending  blow.  Powhatan,  touched  by  this 
act  of  devotion,  released  the  prisoner. 

The  little  Indian  maiden  often  thereafter  aided  the  colonists, 
bringing   them  food  and  warning  them   of  danger.      She  grew 

up  to   be  a  beauti- 
-^^Iv-.  ful  woman  and  was 

converted  to  the 
Christian  religion. 
In  the  little  church 
at  Jamestown  she 
was  baptized  from 
the  pine  trough 
which  was  used  as 
a  font,  and  in  her 
broken  English  plighted  her  faith  to 
a  young  planter  named  John  Rolfe.  In 
6i6  he  took  his  dusky  wife  to  England. 
Lady  Rebecca,  as  she  was  called,  ^'the 
first  Christian  ever  of  her  nation,"  by  her 
naive  simplicity  and  goodness,  won  universal 
admiration.  It  is  said,  however,  that  King 
James  was  jealous  of  Rolfe,  fearing  that,  "  hav- 
ing married  an  Indian  princess,  he  might  lay  claim  to  the  crown 
of  Virginia."  So  high  did  the  tide  of  royalty  run  in  those  days 
that  Rolfe  came  near  being  called  to  account  for  having  pre- 
sumed, a  private  person,  to  marry  into  the  royal  family  of  even  a 
petty  Indian  tribe.  Owing  to  this  same  jealousy.  Smith  dared 
not  allow  Rebecca  to  call  him  father,  as  she  had  been  accustomed 
to  do.  Just  as  she  was  preparing  to  return  to  her  wilderness 
home,  Lady  Rebecca  died,  leaving,  however,  a  son,  from  whom 
some  of  the  most  distinguished  families  of  Virginia  have  been 
"croud  to  boast  their  descent. 

Meanwhile,    Smith   was   wounded    and   forced    to   return    to 


POCAHONTAS. 


1609.]  SETTLEMENT    OF    VIRGINIA.  37 

England.  He  never  received  for  all  his  services  a  foot  of  ground, 
not  even  the  house  he  had  built,  nor  the  land  he  had  cultivated. 
Deprived  of  his  care,  everything  went  to  ruin.  A  winter  of  hor- 
rible famine — long  remembered  in  their  annals  as  the  ^'  Starving 
Time"  —  ensued.  Thirty  of  their  number  seized  a  ship  and 
turned  pirates.  In  six  months  the  colony  was  reduced  from  five 
hundred  to  sixty.  These  fled  in  despair  from  the  terrible  place — 
some  even  bent  upon  burning  the  town  where  they  had  suffered  so 
fearfully.  As,  dropping  down  the  river,  they  neared  the  open 
sea,  they  met  their  new  governor,  Lord  Delaware,  coming  with 
supplies.  A  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling  followed.  Overawed  at 
the  change  in  their  condition,  they  returned  to  their  deserted 
homes  with  a  chastened  joy.  **  It  is  the  Lord  of  Hosts ! "  said 
they ;  "  God  will  raise  our  state  and  build  his  church  in  this 
excellent  clime." 

Now  came  better  times.  A  new  charter  was  obtained  from 
the  king.  The  council  in  London,  which  had  heretofore  stupidly 
tried  to  govern  the  colony,  was  abolished.  The  settlers  obtained 
*'a  hande  in  governing  of  themselves."  July  30,  1619,  the  first 
legislative  body  was  assembled  in  America.  It  consisted  of  the 
governor,  council,  and  the  house  of  burgesses,  or  deputies  from  the 
different  boroughs  or  plantations.  Every  freeman  had  the  right 
to  vote.  A  written  constitution  was  granted,  and  the  foundations 
of  civil  liberty  were  laid  in  Virginia.  A  hardier  and  better  class 
of  men  began  to  flock  to  the  New  World.  New  settlements 
were  established  and  plantations  lined  both  banks  of  the  James 
Kiver  as  far  as  the  present  site  of  Richmond. 

Tobacco  had  proved  a  valuable  article  of  export.  It  was 
cultivated  so  eagerly  that  at  one  time  the  gardens  and  even  the 
public  squares  and  streets  of  Jamestown  were  planted  with  it. 
The  production  of  this  staple  greatly  increased  the  demand  for 
labor.  At  first  "apprenticed  servants"  were  sent  over  from 
England  and  bound  out  to  the  planters  for  a  term  of  years  ;  being 
often  men  who  had  committed  some  crime  or  had  rebelled 
against  the  government.  In  161 9,  twenty  negroes  were  brought 
by  a  Dutch  ship  and  were  quickly  purchased  by  the  planters. 
From  this  small  beginning  sprang  the  institution  of  slavery,  which 
afterward  became  so  important  an  element  in  the  history  of  the 
United  States. 

As  yet,  few  of  the  feebler  sex  had  dared  to  cross  the  At- 
lantic, but  about  this  time  the   proprietors  sent  out   a  load  of 


38 


EXPLORATIONS    AND    SETTLEMENTS. 


[1619. 


industrious,  virtuous  young  women,  who  were  sold  as  wives  to  the 
planters  for  one  hundred  pounds  of  tobacco  per  head.  So  great 
was  the  demand  that,  as  the  records  quaintly  tell  us,  "  one  widow  " 

who  was  sent  over 
in  a  subsequent  lot 
went  readily  with 
the  rest,  and  the 
price  of  the  "  faire 
maidens"  ran  up 
to  a  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds  of 
the  market  weed. 
Domestic  ties 
were  now  formed, 
homes  established, 
and  the  perma- 
nence of  the  col- 
ony was  insured. 

During  the  life 
of  Powhatan, 
there  was  peace 
with  the  Indians, 
but  after  his  death  they  resolved  to  exter- 
minate the  colony  (1622).  Distributing 
themselves  in  small  parties,  they  entered  the 
houses  and  even  sat  down  at  the  tables  of  those  whose  death  they 
were  planning.  At  a  given  signal  they  fell  upon  the  whites  in  all 
the  outlying  plantations.  Jamestown  fortunately  escaped,  through 
the  faithfulness  of  a  converted  Indian.  A  merciless  war  ensued. 
After  a  second  massacre,  some  years  later,  the  Indians  were  ex- 
pelled from  the  region,  and  their  rich  lands  along  the  York  and 
the  James  occupied  by  the  planters. 

According  to  the  idea  of  King  James,  the  London  Company 
was  too  willing  to  grant  rights  to  the  colonists.  He  therefore 
took  away  its  charter  and  made  Virginia  a  royal  province 
(1624).  Thereafter  the  king  appointed  the  governor  and  the 
council,  though  the  colony  retained  its  assembly.  The  royal 
governors  were  oftentimes  unprincipled  men,  who  ruled  for  their 
own  good  and  not  that  of  the  settlers,  shovT-ing  no  sympathy  for 
the  province  and  no  care  for  the  people.  The  Navigation  Acts 
passed  by  the  parliament  in  1660,  which  were  intended  to  give 


SELLING  WIVES  TO   THE   PLANTERS. 


1660.]  SETTLEMENT    OF    VIRGINIA.  39 

England  the  control  of  the  trade  of  the  colonies,  pressed  heavily 
on  Virginia.  They  required  that  the  commerce  of  the  colony 
should  be  carried  on  in  English  vessels,  all  their  tobacco  shipped 
to  England,  and  all  their  goods  purchased  in  that  country. 

The  colony  contained  few  towns  or  centres  of  influence.  The 
cultivation  of  tobacco,  as  the  great  staple,  and  the  introduction  of 
slaves,  naturally  led  to  the  establishment  of  large  estates.  These 
often  descended  to  the  eldest  son  and  were  perpetuated  in  the 
family.  The  great  proprietors  were  generally  men  of  intelligence, 
accustomed  to  control.  They  became  the  magistrates  and  mem- 
bers of  the  council  and  assembly.  A  powerful  landed  aris- 
tocracy was  thus  growing  up  and  obtaining  rule  in  the  prov- 
ince. Virginia  was  also  intensely  royal.  During  the  civil  war  in 
England  it  sided  with  the  king.  After  the  execution  of  Charles  I. 
many  loyalists  took  refuge  on  the  shores  of  the  Chesapeake.  There 
they  found  "  every  house  a  hostelry  and  every  planter  a  friend." 
At  one  time  there  was  even  a  possibility  of  the  young  prince 
coming  to  the  New  World.  Cromwell,  however,  sent  over  a 
ship  of  war  to  Virginia,  and  the  colonists  quickly  submitted. 

Under  the  Commonwealth,  the  People  of  Virginia  were 
allowed  to  elect  their  own  officers  and  to  enjoy  all  the  privileges 
of  an  equal  franchise.  A  change,  however,  was  at  hand.  The 
news  of  the  Restoration  of  Charles  II.  aroused  transports  of  joy, 
but  it  was  the  knell  to  the  political  privileges  of  the  common 
people.  The  next  assembly  (1661)  consisted  almost  entirely  of 
cavaliers  and  great  landholders.  The  Church  of  England  was 
made  that  of  the  colony.  All  had  to  contribute  to  its  support. 
In  each  parish  a  board  of  vestrymen  was  appointed,  with  power 
to  assess  taxes  and  fill  any  vacancy  in  its  body.  Dissenters 
were  heavily  punished.  A  fine  of  twenty  pounds  was  imposed 
on  absentees  from  church.  Baptists  were  declared  to  be  "  filled 
with  new-fangled  conceits  of  their  own  heretical  invention."  A 
member  who  was  thought  to  be  kindly  disposed  toward  the 
Quakers  was  expelled  from  the  Board  of  Burgesses.  The  right 
of  suffrage  was  confined  to  freeholders  and  housekeepers.  The 
vestrymen  became  a  close  corporation  and  imposed  taxes  at 
pleasure.  The  assemblymen  remained  in  office  after  their  term 
had  expired,  and  voted  themselves  a  daily  pay  of  two  hundred 
and  fifty  pounds  of  tobacco  (about  nine  dollars  in  value)  —  an 
enormous  salary  for  those  days  of  poverty. 

The    common    people,   feeling    themselves    deprived    of   the 


40 


EXPLORATIONS    AND    SETTLEMENTS. 


[1676. 


political  rights  they  had  so  long  enjoyed,  were  ready  for  an 
uprising.  Little  knots  of  men  gathered  in  the  gloom  of  the 
woods  to  talk  over  their  wrongs.  A  young  planter  named 
Nathaniel  Bacon,  known  in  history  as  the  "  Virginia  Rebel," 
sympathizing  with  the  democracy,  became  its  leader,  July,  1676. 
Governor  Berkeley  not  proving  able  to  protect  the  frontier  from, 
the  Indians,  Bacon  rallied  the  frightened  yeomanr}^,  put  the  In- 
dians to  rout,  and  then,  returning,  forced  Berkeley  to  dissolve  the 
old  assembly  and  issue  writs  for  a  new  election.  The  governor,, 
however,  failed  to  keep  faith,  and  civil  war  broke  out.  James- 
town was  burnt,  patriots  firing  their 
own  houses,  lest  they  might  protect 
the  enemies  to  their  liberty.  Bacon 
died  in  the  midst  of  success.  Dis- 
pirited by  his  loss, 
the  people  scat- 
tered their  forc-es. 
The  principal  men 
were  hunted  down 
with  ferocious 
zeal.  Hansford, 
a  gallant  native 
Virginian,  per- 
ished on  the  scaf- 
fold, the  first  mar- 
tyr to  the  cause 
of  American  lib- 
erty. His  last 
words  were,  **  I 
die  a  loyal  subject 
and  a  lover  of  my 
country."  As 
William  Drummond  was  brought  in,  the  vindictive  Berkeley, 
bowing  low,  remarked  with  cruel  mockery,  "  I  am  more  glad  to 
see  you  than  any  man  in  Virginia.  You  shall  be  hanged  in 
half  an  hour."  The  patriot  was  condemned  at  one  o'clock  and 
hanged  at  four  the  same  day.  The  gallows  received  twenty-two 
victims,  and  yet  Berkeley's  revenge  was  not  satisfied.  Charles  II., 
when  he  heard  the  tidings,  impatiently  exclaimed,  "  The  old  fool 
has  taken  more  lives  in  that  naked  country  than  I  did  for  the  mur- 
der of  my  father." 


DRUMMOND   BROUGHT   BEFORE   BERKELEY. 


1676.]  SETTLExMENT    OF    MARYLAND.  41 

Berkeley  was  recalled.  But  the  rebellion  had  been  a  century 
too  early.  The  governor  who  succeeded  ruled  more  arbitrarily 
than  ever.  The  king  appointed  all  officers  of  the  colony.  Even 
the  members  of  the  assembly  were  hereafter  elected  only  by  free- 
holders. Yet  as  the  spirit  of  liberty  spread,  the  people  found 
means  to  thwart  their  oppressors,  and  in  spite  of  adverse  circum- 
stances, the  colony  grew  rapidly  in  wealth  and  population. 
"  There  was  no  need  of  a  scramble ;  abundance  gushed  from  the 
earth  for  all.  The  morasses  were  alive  with  water-fowl ;  the 
creeks  abounded  with  oysters,  heaped  together  in  inexhaustible 
beds ;  the  rivers  were  alive  with  fish  ;  the  forests  were  nimble 
with  game ;  the  woods  rustled  with  coveys  of  quails  and  wild 
turkeys,  while  they  rung  with  the  merry  notes  of  singing 
birds;  and  hogs,  swarming  like  vermin,  ran  at  large  in. troops. 
It  was  the  best  poor  man's  country  in  the  world."  In  1688  it 
had  a  population  of  fifty  thousand,  and  exported  twenty-five 
thousand  hogsheads  of  tobacco,  on  which  England  levied  a  tax 
of  one  hundred  and  thirty-five  thousand  pounds. 


gETTX-EMENT    Of    JVIAF(YX.A]MD. 

Lord  Baltimore  (George  Calvert)  came  to  Virginia  (1629)^ 
seeking  a  refuge  for  his  Catholic  brethren,  who  were  then  perse- 
cuted in  England;  but  finding  that  persons  of  his  faith  were 
harshly  treated,  he  secured  from  the  king  a  grant  of  land  north  of 
the  Potomac,  on  the  annual  payment  of  two  Indian  arrows  and 
one-fifth  of  the  gold  and  silver  which  might  be  found.  This  ter« 
ritory  received  the  name  Maryland,  in  honor  of  the  queen,  Henri- 
etta Maria.  Its  charter,  unlike  that  granted  to  Virginia,  gave  to 
all  freemen  the  right  of  making  the  laws.  All  sects  were  to  be 
tolerated,  and  there  was  to  be  no  interference  from  the  king,  nor 
any  English  taxation. 

The  first  colony  was  founded  at  an  Indian  town  near  the  mouth 
of  the  Potomac.  Religious  liberty  obtained  a  home,  its  first  in 
the  wide  world,  at  the  humble  village  of  St.  Mary's.  The  infant 
colony  flourished  wonderfully.  The  land  had  already  been  tilled 
by  the  Indians  and  was  ready  for  planting.  Food  was  plenty 
and  contentment  reigned.      Tobacco  became  the  staple  ;    slaves 


42 


EXPLORATIONS    AND    SETTLEMENTS. 


[1634. 


were  introduced  ;  and  much  the  same  manners  and  customs  ob- 
tained as  in  Virginia.      There  was,  for  a  time,  serious  difficulty 

with  a  colony  of  refugees  from 
Virginia  under  Clayborne,  who 
refused  to  submit  to  the  new  gov- 
ernment. The  Puritans,  coming 
in  large  numbers,  obtained  the 
majority  over  the  Catholics. 
Two  governors  were  elected; 
one  Catholic  and  the  other 
Protestant.  Confusion  ensued, 
and  then  civil  war.  Finally 
the  Catholics  found  themselves 
disenfranchised  in  the  very  col- 
ony they  had  planted.  In  171 5, 
the  fourth  Lord  Baltimore  re- 
covered the  government,  and 
religious  toleration  was  again 
granted.  Maryland  remained 
under  this  administration  until 
the  Revolution. 


LORD    BALTIMORE. 


S^>>^i^^<^X^^ 


gETTLEMflJMT    Of    PI.YMOUTH    COLO]MY. 

One  stormy  day  in  the  fall  of  1620,  the  Mayflower  dropped 
anchor  in  the  harbor  of  Cape  Cod.  It  bore  a  little  band  of  one 
hundred  and  two  Pilgrims.  They  had  neither  charter  from  the 
king  nor  the  patronage  of  any  company.  They  were  exiles  flee- 
ing from  persecution  at  home  and  seeking  religious  freedom  in 
the  New  World.  They  had  expected  to  settle  the  milder  coun- 
try near  the  Hudson,  but  instead  were  borne  to  the  tempestuous 
coast  of  Massachusetts.  Before  any  one  landed,  they  assembled  in 
the  cabin  and  signed  a  compact  agreeing  to  submit  to  such  "just  and 
equal  laws"  as  should  be  enacted  for  the  "general  good."  John 
Carver  was  chosen  governor.  They  sailed  about  for  a  month  seek- 
ing a  good  location  for  their  intended  settlement.  Meanwhile,  Cap- 
tain Miles  Standish  and  his  soldiers,  each  armed  with  coat  of  mail, 
sword,  and  match-lock  musket,  explored  the  country  by  land. 


1620.] 


SETTLEMENT    OF    PLYMOUTH    COLONY. 


43 


SIGNING   THE   COMPACT. 


The  old  chronicles 
narrate  various  inci- 
dents of  their  differ- 
ent excursions.  One 
day  they  found  "  five 
or  six  people  with 
a  dogge,  who  were 
savages,"  and  who  "  all  ran  away  and  whistled  the  dogge  after 
them."  Then  Bradford  (the  future  governor)  was  caught  in  an 
Indian  deer-trap,  to  the  great  amusement  of  the  party ;  and  after- 
ward they  stumbled  upon  some  heaps  of  earth,  in  one  of  which 
were  baskets  of  Indian  corn.  This  they  carried  back  to  the  ship 
in  a  great  kettle  left  among  the  ruins  of  an  Indian  hut.  It  fur- 
nished them  seed  for  their  first  crop,  and  the  owners,  being  after- 
ward found,  were  carefully  paid.  At  another  time  having  con- 
cluded their  morning-prayers,  they  were  preparing  to  breakfast, 
when  a  strange  yell  was  heard  and  a  shower  of  arrows  fell  in  the 
midst  of  their  little  camp  on  the  beach.  They  returned  the  salute 
w^ith  powder  and  ball,  and  their  savage  assailants  fled. 

The  little  shallop  which  was  used  for  coasting  along  the  shore 
encountered  a  furious  gale,  and  lost  sail,  mast,  and  rudder.  With 
great  difficulty  they  brought  it  to  land.  Darkness  was  already 
upon  them,  and  the  rain  froze  on  their  garments  as  they  stood. 
They  kindled  a  fire  out  of  the  wet  wood  on  the  shore,  and  passed 
the  night  as  best  they  could.  The  next  day  was  spent  in  cleaning 
rusty  weapons,  drying  drenched  "  stuff,"  and  reconnoitering  the 
place.  Every  hour  was  precious.  The  winter  was  rapidly  clos- 
ing in.  The  party  in  the  Mayflower  was  anxiously  awaiting  their 
return,  yet,  being  "  y®  last  day  of  y®  weeke,  they  prepared  ther 
to  keepe  y^  Sabbath." 


PLYMOUTH    ROCK. 


44  EXPLORATIONS    AND    SETTLEMENTS.  [1620. 

On  Monday,  December  21,  the  Pilgrims  landed  at  Plymouth. 
A  grateful  posterity  has  kept  the  day  in  honored  remembrance, 
and  "  Forefathers*  Rock,"  on  which  they  first  set  foot,  is  still 
preserved  as  an  object  of  veneration.  It  was  probably  the  only 
stone  large  enough  for  the  purpose  of  landing  in  all  that  bleak, 
sandy  coast. 

The  cutting  blasts  of  winter  fell  upon  them.  Half  of  the  men 
were  sick  from  exposure.  Yet  they  resolutely  set  at  work  build- 
ing rude  log-cabins.  At 
one  time  there  were  only 
seven  well  persons  in  the 
colony.  They  "  carried 
out  the  dead  through  the 
snow  and  the  cold,  and 
returned  to  take  care  of 
the  sick."  When  spring 
came,  the  graves  they 
had  dug  far  outnumbered 
the  houses  they  had  built.  But  the  hearts  of  the  survivors  never 
misgave  them.  When  the  Mayflower  returned  to  England  she 
carried  back  not  a  single  home-sick  pilgrim. 

The  summer  found  them  with  flourishing  fields  of  barley, 
peas,  and  Indian  corn  ;  fish,  wild  fowls,  berries,  and  native  fruits 
in  abundance ;  nineteen  log-cabins,  each  with  a  little  enclosure  for 
a  private  garden  ;  a  rude  store-house,  twenty  feet  square,  for  the 
protection  of  their  common  property  ;  and  a  platform  on  the  hill 
crowned  with  five  guns  as  a  means  of  defence.  A  little  brook 
ran  by  the  humble  town,  and  springs  of  clear,  fresh  water  were 
near.  That  "  the  birds  sang  in  the  woods  most  pleasantly,"  and 
the  wild  wood-flowers  were  "  very  sweet,"  is  their  own  record, 
and  testifies  to  their  cheerful  content. 

The  feeble  colony  met  with  no  opposition  from  the  Indians. 
A  pestilence  had  nearly  annihilated  several  tribes  inhabiting  that 
portion  of  the  coast,  and  thus,  providentially,  as  the  Pilgrims 
devoutly  believed,  left  a  clear  place  for  them  to  occupy.  One 
pleasant  morning  they  were  startled  by  the  coming  of  an  Indian, 
who,  in  broken  English,  bade  them  ''Welcome."  He  proved 
to  be  Samoset,  a  petty  chief  who  had  picked  up  a  little  of  the 
language  from  the  crews  of  fishing -vessels.  He  afterward 
brought  Massasoit,  the  head  chief  of  the  Wampanoags.  A  treaty 
was  made  with  him  and  faithfully  observed  for  over  half  a  cen- 


1622.] 


SETTLEMENT    OF    PLYMOUTH    COLONY. 


45 


WELCOME,    ENGLISHMEN. — PLYMOUTH,    162I. 


tury.  In  1622,  Canonicus,  sachem  of  the  Narragansett  tribe,  sent 
to  Plymouth,  as  a  token  of  defiance,  a  bundle  of  arrows  tied  with 
a  rattlesnake's  skin.  The  governor  sent  back  the  same  skin 
stuffed  with  powder  and  ball.  The  superstitious  savages,  think- 
ing it  some  fatal  charm,  passed  it  in  terror  from  hand  to  hand  till 
it  came  back  again  to  Plymouth. 

The  first  crop  proved  inadequate  for  the  winter.  A  new  body 
of  emigrants  arrived,  but  they  were  unprovided  with  food,  and  so 
only  increased  the  privations  and  difficulties  of  the  colony.  Even 
at  the  end  of  three  years  we  are  told  that  ^*  at  night  they  knew 
not  where  to  have  a  bit  in  the  morning."  At  one  time  there  was 
only  a  pint  of  corn  in  the  settlement,  which  allowed  five  kernels  to 
each  person.  Yet  such  was  their  pious  content  that  at  a  social 
dinner,  consisting  only  of  clams,  eaten  off  the  lid  of  the  same 
chest  on  which  the  compact  was  signed  in  the  cabin  of  the  May- 
flower, good  Elder  Brewster  returned  thanks  to  God  for  having 
"  given  them  to  suck  the  abundance  of  the  seas  and  of  the  treas- 
ures hid  in  the  sand."  The  plan  first  adopted  of  working  their 
lands  in  common  failed,  as  at  Jamestown,  and  a  portion  was 
assigned  each  settler.  Thrifty,  God-fearing,  and  industrious, 
the  Pilgrims  steadily  gained  in  abundance  and  comfort.  Car- 
goes of  sassafras,  then  much  esteemed  in  pharmacy,  furs  and  lum- 


46  EXPLORATIONS    AND    SETTLEMENTS.  [1628. 

ber  were  sent  to  England.     After  a  time  they  raised  enough  corn 
to  sell  to  fishing-vessels  and  to  barter  with  the  Indians. 

For  over  eighteen  years  the  government  in  church  and  state 
was  a  strict  democracy — all  the  male  inhabitants  forming  the 
legislature.  The  increase  of  population  afterward  caused  it  to  be 
made  representative,  and  each  town  sent  a  committee  to  the  gen- 
eral court.  The  Plymouth  colony  remained  independent  till  1692, 
when  it  was  united  to  that  of  Massachusetts  Bay. 


gETTl.EJVlEp^T    OF    MASg^CHUgETTg    ByVY. 

The  success  of  the  Pilgrims  greatly  encouraged  the  establish- 
ment of  other  settlements.  Large  numbers  of  the  best  Puritan 
families  in  England  were  induced  to  emigrate.  In  1628,  five  ship- 
loads landed  at  a  place  which  they  named  Salem,  from  the  Hebrew 
word  meaning  peace.  Their  circumstances  were  far  different  from 
those  of  the  Pilgrims.  It  was  June  when  they  approached  the 
coast.  "  What  with  pine  woods  and  green  trees  by  land,"  writes 
the  old  chronicler,  "  and  yellow  flames  painting  the  sea,  we  were 
all  desirous  to  see  our  new  Paradise."  They  had  a  grant  from 
the  Council  of  New  England,  which  had  taken  the  place  of  the 
old  Plymouth  Company.  They  had  a  charter  from  the  king, 
authorizing  them  to  govern  themselves.  Moreover,  their  connec- 
tions in  England  were  powerful.  They  brought  tools,  cattle,  and 
horses.  They  were  not,  however,  exempted  from  the  hardships 
incident  to  a  settler's  life.  The  winter  was  very  severe  and  they 
were  forced  to  subsist  on  ground-nuts,  shell-fish,  and  acorns,  so 
difficult  to  obtain  at  that  season  of  the  year.  One  of  them 
wrote :  "  Bread  was  so  very  scarce  that  sometimes  I  thought  the 
very  crumbs  of  my  father's  table  would  be  sweet  unto  me. 
And,  when  I  could  have  meal  and  water  and  salt  boiled  together, 
it  was  so  good,  who  could  wish  better?" 

Other  settlements  were  rapidly  formed — Charlestown,  Dor- 
chester, Watertown,  Lynn,  and  Cambridge.  One  thousand  emi- 
grants under  the  highly-esteemed  Governor  Winthrop  estab- 
lished themselves  at  Boston — from  its  three  hills  first  called 
Tri-Mountain — which  became  the  capital  of  the  colony. 

The  government   was  vested   in   a  governor  chosen  by  the 


1630.] 


SETTLEMENT    OF    MASSACHUSETTS    BAY. 


47 


FAC-SIMILE  OF  FIRST  UAP  ENGRAVED  IN  NEW  ENGLAND. 


people,  and  a  legislature  elected  in  the  same  manner.  None  but 
freemen,  however,  could  vote,  and  none  but  church  members 
were  eligible  to  citizen- 
ship. "  Each  settlement," 
says  Hildreth,  ''at  once 
assumed  that  township 
authority  which  has  ever 
formed  so  marked  a  fea- 
ture in  the  political  or- 
ganization of  New  Eng- 
land. The  people  assem- 
bled in  to  wn  -  meeting, 
voted  taxes  for  local  pur- 
poses, and  chose  three, 
five,  or  seven  of  the  prin- 
cipal inhabitants,  at  first 
under  other  names,  but 
early  known  as  'select- 
men,* who  had  the  expen- 
diture of  this  money  and  the  executive  management  of  town  affairs. 
A  treasurer  and  a  town  clerk  were  also  chosen,  and  a  constable 
was  soon  added  for  the  service  of  civil  and  criminal  processes." 
Each  town  constituted,  in  fact,  a  small  state  almost  complete  in 
itself. 

It  is  a  noticeable  fact  that  what  we  now  call  Massachusetts 
grew  up  around  two  centres,  separated  not  only  by  forty  miles  of 
wilderness,  but  by  a  great  diversity  of  thought.  Plymouth  and 
the  Bay  were  two  little  republics,  that  for  sixty  years  maintained 
their  independence.  In  England,  the  Pilgrims  who  settled  the 
former  were  Separatists  ;  that  is  to  say,  they  had  left  the  Church 
of  England  aftd  set  up  churches  for  themselves.  The  Puritans, 
who  came  to  the  Bay,  were  Non-conformists  ;  t.  e.,  they  simply  re- 
fused to  conform  to  certain  rules  and  usages  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, but  remained,  as  it  were,  members  under  protest.  Plymouth 
was  weak  in  men  and  money ;  the  Bay  was  strong  from  the  first. 
The  former  was  settled  by  plain,  practical  people,  having  only  one 
university  man  —  Elder  Brewster;  the  latter  had  a  superabun- 
dance of  highly  educated  persons.  In  1640,  the  Bay  numbered 
seventy-seven  clergymen  ;  they  dominated  in  all  political  action 
and  engrafted  on  the  Puritan  colony  the  best  learning  of  the  Old 
World.     At  Plymouth  all  voted  who  were  elected  to  the  right  of 


48 


EXPLORATIONS  AND  SETTLEMENTS. 


[1636. 


citizenship  ;  at  the  Bay,  church  membership  was  a  sine  qua  non, 
so  that  not  a  quarter  of  the  adults  were  ehgible  to  that  trust. 
At  Plymouth  were  found  quiet,  peace,  and  contentment ;  at  the 
Bay,  the  rush  of  business  and  the  strife  of  parties,  impelling  the 
tides  of  hfe  which  set  off  to  establish  new  centres  in  Connecticut, 
Rhode  Island,  and  other  colonies. 

Religious  toleration  was  rarely  seen  in  those  days.  Indeed, 
those  who  were  themselves  cruelly  persecuted  were  often  the 
most  intolerant  in  their  treatment  of  any  who  differed  with  them. 
The  Puritans  had  crossed  the  sea  to  establish  a  Puritan 
colony,  and  they  required  everybody  to  attend  their  worship. 
A  strict  uniformity  of  belief  was  enforced.  Religious  distur- 
bances soon  arose.     Roger  Williams,  an  eloquent  young  minister, 

had  adopted  the  idea 
of  "  soul -liberty,"  as 
he  expressed  it,  i.  e,, 
the  responsibility  of 
every  man  to  his  own 
conscience   alone.      It 


ROGER  WILLIAMS  RECEIVED   BY   CANONICUS. 


was  a  novel  sentiment  in  those  days,  and  was  especially  unsuited  to 
the  Puritan  method  of  government.  Williams  was  accordingly 
expelled  from  the  colony.  Exiled  by  Christians,  he  found  a  home 
with  Pagans.  Canonicus,  a  Narragansett  chief,  gave  him  land  for 
a  settlement,  which  he  gratefully  called  Providence  (1636).  Mrs. 
Hutchinson,  who  rebelled  at  the  restpaints  placed  upon  women, 
and  claimed  to  have  special  revelations  of  God's  will,  was  also 
banished,  and  joined  the  new  colony.  The  Quakers  had  come 
to  Boston  overflowing  with  zeal,  and  even  courting  persecution. 


1656.] 


KING    PHILIP'S    WAR. 


49 


They  received  it  in  abundance.  Several  were  hanged.  Num- 
bers were  flogged  and  expelled.  These,  too,  found  a  hearty 
welcome  at  the  Providence  plantation,  the  exiled  Williams  freely 
sharing  his  lands  with  religious  refugees  of  every  class.  Thus 
were  laid  the  foundations  of  the  State  of  Rhode  Island.  Its 
fundamental  principle  was  its  founder's  favorite  one  of  entire 
liberty  of  conscience. 

A  union  of  the  colonies  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  Plymouth,  New 
Haven,  and  Connecticut,  was  formed  in  1643,  under  the  title  of 
The  United  Colonies  of  New  England.  This  was  a  famous 
league  in  colonial  times,  and  was  the  germ  of  the  Federal  Union 
of  later  days.  The  object  was  a  common  protection  against  the 
Indians  and  the  encroachments  of  the  Dutch  and  French  settlers. 

Massasoit,  like  Powhatan,  was  the  friend  of  the  whites.  After 
Massasoit's  death,  his  son.  King  Philip,  as  he  was  called,  brooding 
over  the  constant  encroachments  of  the  settlers,  the  loss  of  game, 
and  the  usurpation  of  his  favorite  hunting-grounds,  at  last  organ- 
ized a  confederation  of  various 
tribes  to  drive  out  the  intruders. 
The  struggle  began  ere  his  plans 
were  completed.  Some  Indians 
being  tried  and  hanged  for  mur- 
der, Philip,  in  revenge,  fell  upon 
Swanzy,  a  little  settlement  near 
his  home  at  Mount  Hope  (1675). 
Troops  came,  and  he  fled,  mark- 
ing his  flight  by  burning  build- 
ings and  by  poles  hung  with  the 
heads,  hands,  and  scalps  of  the 
hapless  whites  whom  he  met 
on  the  way.  All  the  horrors  of 
Indian  warfare  now  burst  upon 
the  doomed  colonists  of  New 
England.  The  settlements  were 
widely  scattered.  The  Indians 
lurked  in  every  forest  and  brake. 
They  watched  for  the  lonely 
settler  as  he   opened  his   door 

in  the  morning,  as  he  was  busy  with  his  work  in  the  field,  or 
walked  along  the  forest  path  to  church.  The  fearful  war-whoop, 
the  deadly  tomahawk,  the  treacherous  ambuscade,  filled  the  col- 


KING     PHILIP. 

(From  an  Old  Print.) 


50 


EXPLORATIONS    AND    SETTLEMENTS. 


[1675. 


ony  with  constant  terror. 
In  August,  a  company  of 
eighty  young  men,  "  the  very 
flower  of  the  county  of  Es- 
sex," were  returning  from 
Deerfield  with  a  train  of 
wagons  loaded  with  wheats 
which  they  had  harvested.  At  a  little  stream,  ever  since  that  day 
called  Bloody  Run,  they  stopped  to  pick  the  grapes  which  hung 
in  profusion  from  the  trees  along  the  road.  Suddenly  amid  their 
glee,  the  Indians  leaped  upon  them,  like  tigers,  from  the  thicket. 
Only  seven  or  eight  of  the  entire  party  escaped.  While  the  sav- 
ages were  plundering  the  dead,  troops  came  to  the  rescue,  and^ 
in  turn,  cut  down  nearly  one  hundred  of  their  number  ere  they 
could  escape. 

At  Hadley,  the  Indians  surprised  the  people  during  a  relig- 
ious service.  Seizing  their  muskets  at  the  sound  of  the  savage 
war-whoop,  the  men  rushed  out  of  the  meeting-house  to  fall  into 
line.  But  the  foe  was  on  every  side.  Confused  and  bewildered, 
the  settlers  seemed  about  to  give  way,  when  suddenly  a  strange 
old  man  with  long  white  beard  and  ancient  garb  appeared  among 
them.     Ringing  out  a  quick,  sharp  word  of  command,  he  recalled 


1676.]  SALEM    WITCHCRAFT.  51 

them  to  their  senses.  Following  their  mysterious  leader,  they 
drove  the  enemy  headlong  before  them.  The  danger  passed, 
they  looked  around  for  their  deliverer ;  but  he  had  disappeared 
as  mysteriously  as  he  had  come.  The  good  people  believed 
that  God  had  sent  an  angel  to  their  rescue.  History  reveals 
the  secret.  It  was  the  regicide  Colonel  Goffe.  Fleeing  from  the 
vengeance  of  Charles  II.,  with  a  price  set  upon  his  head,  he  had  for 
years  wandered  about,  living  in  mills,  clefts  of  rocks,  and  forest 
caves.  At  last  he  had  found  an  asylum  with  the  Hadley  minister. 
From  his  window  he  had  seen  the  stealthy  Indians  coming  down 
the  hill.  Fired  with  desire  to  do  one  more  good  deed  for  God's 
people,  he  rushed  from  his  hiding-place,  led  them  on  to  victory^ 
and  then  returned  to  his  retreat,  never  more  to  reappear. 

All  the  long  summer  the  cruel  strife  went  on.  But  when 
winter  came,  and  the  forest  was  more  open  and  the  low  ground 
frozen  over,  a  large  body  of  the  colonists  attacked  the  Indians  in. 
their  stronghold,  in  an  almost  inaccessible  swamp  in  South  King- 
ston. After  a  desperate  struggle  the  fort  was  carried,  and  the 
wigwams  filled  with  stores  were  burned  to  ashes.  A  thousand 
warriors  were  killed.  The  next  year  Philip  was  left  almost  alone. 
Hunted  from  place  to  place,  he  was  tracked  to  the  centre  of  a 
morass,  where  he  was  shot  by  one  of  his  own  people.  It  was 
a  sad  fate  for  a  brave  man,  who,  under  other  circumstances, 
would  have  been  styled  a  hero  and  a  patriot.  The  war  had  cost 
the  colony  six  hundred  men  and  one  million  dollars.  Every 
eleventh  house  had  been  burned  and  every  eleventh  soldier  killed. 
No  help  had  been  asked  or  received  from  England. 

The  year  1692  is  memorable  as  that  of  the  Salem  Witchcraft. 
This  was  a  delusion  which  seems  preposterous  now,  but  which 
was  then  in  accordance  with  the  current  belief  of  the  times.  It 
broke  out  in  the  family  of  Mr.  Parish,  a  minister  of  Salem,  where 
a  company  of  girls  had  been  in  the  habit  of  meeting  with  two  West 
Indian  slaves,  to  study  the  ''  black  art."  Suddenly  they  began  to 
be  mysteriously  contorted,  to  bark  like  dogs,  purr  like  cats,  and 
scream  at  some  unseen  thing  which  was  sticking  pins  in  their  bodies. 
They  accused  an  old  Indian  servant  of  bewitching  them.  On 
being  scourged,  she  acknowledged  the  crime.  A  fast-day  was 
proclaimed.  Cotton  Mather,  a  distinguished  minister  of  Boston, 
and  a  firm  believer  in  the  delusion,  came  to  investigate  the  case. 
The  excitement  spread.  Impeachments  multiplied.  A  special 
court  was  formed  to  try  the  accused.     The  jails  rapidly  filled. 


52  EXPLORATIONS    AND    SETTLEMENTS.  [1692. 

Magistrates  were  busy.  On  the  most  foolish  charges — as  being 
seen  flying  through  the  air  on  a  broom — respectable  people  were 
condemned  to  death.  It  was  dangerous  to  express  doubt  of  a 
prisoner's  guilt.  Fifty-five  persons  suffered  torture  and  twenty 
were  executed.  All  these  might  have  escaped  if  they  had  con- 
fessed themselves  guilty,  but,  with  noble  heroism,  they  chose 
death  rather  than  a  falsehood.     When  the  people  awoke  to  their 


THE   OLD   WITCH   HOUSE— SCENE  OF   EXAMINATIONS  AT  SALEM. 

folly  the  reaction  was  wonderful.  Judge  Sewall  was  so  deeply 
penitent  that  he  observed  a  day  of  fasting  in  each  year,  and  on 
the  day  of  general  fast  rose  in  his  place  in  the  Old  South  Church 
at  Boston,  and  in  the  presence  of  the  congregation  handed  to  the 
pulpit  a  written  confession  acknowledging  his  error,  and  praying 

"  That  the  sin  of  his  ignorance  sorely  rued, 
Might  be  washed  away  in  the  mingled  flood 
Of  his  human  sorrow  and  Christ's  dear  blood." 

The  history  of  Maine  and  New  Hampshire  is  almost  identical 
with  that  of  Massachusetts.  The  early  settlements  grew  up  out 
of  various  fishing  stations  along  the  coast.  A  story  is  told  of  an 
itinerant  preacher,  who,  in  his  exhortations  to  the  people  of  Ports- 
mouth, reminded  them  that  as  they  had  come  thither  for  the  pur- 
pose of  free  worship,  they  ought  to  be  very  religious.  "  Sir,  you 
are  quite  mistaken,"  was  the  reply.  "  You  think  you  are  speak- 
ing to  the  people  of  Massachusetts  Bay.  Our  main  end  is  to  catch 
fish."  Maine  was  not  one  of  the  original  thirteen  colonies,  and 
did  not  separate  from  Massachusetts  till  1820.  New  Hampshire 
was  three  times  given  to  Massachusetts,  either  from  its  own  wish 
or  by  royal  authority.  In  1741  it  became  a  royal  province,  and 
had  its  governor,  who  was  appointed  by  the  king. 


1635.]  THE    PEQUOD    WAR.  53 


gETTLEJVlEJ^T    OF    COJMjM^CTICUT. 

The  valley  of  the  Connecticut — a  name  derived  from  the  Indian 
word  for  long  river — was  settled  from  Massachusetts.  Rumors  of 
its  rich  bottom  lands  early  attracted  the  attention  of  the  pioneers 
struggling  for  an  existence  upon  the  barren  sea-coast  around  Plym- 
outh and  the  Bay.  In  1633  a  company  of  traders  from  Plymouth 
sailed  up  the  river  and  built  a  fort  at  Windsor.  In  the  autumn 
of  1635  John  Steele,  one  of  the  proprietors  of  Cambridge,  led  a 
pioneer  company  ''  out  west,"  as  it  was  then  considered,  and  laid 
the  foundations  of  Hartford.  They  passed  the  winter  in  miser- 
able cabins,  half-buried  in  the  snow,  living  precariously  on  corn 
purchased  of  the  Indians.  The  next  year  the  main  band,  with 
their  pastor,  Thomas  Hooker,  a  most  eloquent  and  estimable  man, 
*'  the  light  of  the  western  churches,"  came,  driving  their  flocks 
before  them,  through  the  wilderness.  For  two  weeks  they 
traveled  on  foot,  traversing  mountains,  sWamps,  and  rivers,  with 
only  the  compass  for  a  guide,  and  little  beside  the  milk  from 
their  own  cows  for  their  subsistence.  Mrs.  Hooker  being  ill,  was 
borne  on  a  litter.  They  established  Hartford,  Wethersfield  and 
Windsor,  known  as  the  Connecticut  colony,  giving  the  franchise 
to  all  freemen.  New  Haven  was  settled  by  a  company  of  Puri- 
tans direct  from  England.  Like  the  colony  around  Massachusetts 
Bay,  they  allowed  only  church  members  to  vote. 

The  settlers  had  not  been  a  year  in  their  new  home  when  a 
war  broke  out  with  the  Pequod  Indians.  Roger. Williams,  hear- 
ing that  this  tribe  was  likely  to  obtain  the  aid  of  the  Narragan- 
setts,  forgot  all  the  wrongs  he  had  received  from  the  Massachu- 
setts people,  and,  at  the  risk  of  his  life,  went  to  the  Indian 
council,  confronted  the  Pequod  deputies,  and,  after  a  three-days 
struggle,  prevailed  upon  the  Narragansetts  to  take  part  with  the 
whites.  A  body  of  ninety  Connecticut  colonists  was  now  raised 
to  attack  the  Pequod  stronghold  on  the  Mystic  River.  After 
spending  nearly  all  night  in  prayer,  at  the  request  of  the  sol- 
diers, they  set  out  on  their  perilous  expedition.  On  the  way  they 
were  joined  by  several  hundred  friendly  Indians.  The  party 
approached  the  fort  at  daybreak  (June  5,  1637).  The  barking  of 
a  dog  aroused  the  sleepy  sentinel,  and  he  shouted,  "  Owanux ! 
Owanux  !  "  (the  Englishmen  ! ) — but  it  was  too  late.  The  troops 
were  already  within  the  palisades.     The  Indians  collected  them- 


54  EXPLORATIONS    AND    SETTLEMENTS.  [1637. 

selves  and  made  a  fierce  resistance ;  but  Captain  Mason,  seizing  a 
firebrand,  hurled  it  among  the  wigwams.  The  flames  quickly 
swept  through  the  encampment.  The  English  themselves  barely 
escaped.  A  few  Indians  fled  to  the  swamp,  but  were  hunted 
down.  The  tribe  perished  in  a  day.  This  fearful  blow  struck 
terror  to  the  savages,  and  gave  New  England  peace  for  forty 
years,  until  King  Philip's  war,  of  which  we  have  spoken.  ''  The 
infant  was  safe  in  its  cradle,  the  laborer  in  the  fields,  the  solitary 
traveler  during  the  night-watches  in  the  forest;  the  houses 
needed  no  bolts,  the  settlements  no  palisades." 

The  younger  Winthrop,  son  of  Governor  Winthrop  of  Massa- 
chusetts and  one  of  the  most  accomplished  men  of  his  time,  went 
to  England,  and  by  his  personal  influence  and  popularity  obtained 
from  Charles  I.  the  most  liberal  charter  as  yet  given  to  the 
colonies.  It  was  a  precious  boon  to  liberty.  Twenty-five  years 
afterward.  Governor  Andros,  pompously  marching  from  Boston 
over  the  route  where  the  pious  Hooker  had  led  his  little  flock  fifty 
years  before,  came  "  glittering  with  scarlet  and  lace  "  into  the 
assembly  at  Hartford,  and  demanded  the  charter.  A  protracted 
debate  ensued.    The  people  crowded  around  to  take  a  last  look  at 

this  guarantee  of  their  liberties, 

■^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^*     the    charter    pfovernment    at   an 

THK    CHAKTEK    OAK.  O 

end.     "  Finis  "  was  written  at  the 
close  of  the  minutes  of  their  last  meeting. 

The  freedom  of  the  press  was  now  denied.  Persons  about  to 
marry  had  to  give  heavy  bonds  with  sureties.  The  right  to  join 
in  wedlock  was  taken  from  the  clergy  and  given  to  the  magis- 
trates. Payment  of  money  to  non-conformist  ministers  was  for- 
bidden. Farmers  were  required  to  take  out  new  titles  to  their 
land,  at  great  expense.  The  rule  of  the  governor  became  at  last 
unendurable.  When  he  was  finally  deposed,  the  people  brought 
out  the  faded  but  now  doubly-precious  charter  from  its  hiding- 
place,  the  general  court  reassembled,  and  the  ''  finis"  disappeared. 


1609.] 


DISCOVERY    OF    THE    HUDSON    RIVER. 


55 


3ETTX.EJVIE]MT    OF    NEW    YORK. 

This  was  the  only  colony  planted  by  the  Dutch.  In  1609, 
Henry  Hudson,  an  English  navigator  in  the  service  of  the  Dutch, 
while  seeking  a  northwest  passage  to  the  Indies  entered  the 
harbor  of  New  York.  His  vessel,  the  Half-Moon,  was  the  first 
European  ship  to  sail  up  that  noble  river  which  now  bears  his 
name.  Strange  was  the  sight  which  greeted  his  wondering  eyes. 
"  Sombre  forests,"  says  Bancroft,  "  shed  a  melancholy  grandeur 
over  the  useless  magnificence  of  nature,  and  hid  in  their  deep 


THE  HALF-MOON   IN  THE   HUDSON. 


shades  the  rich  soil  which  the  sun  had  never  warmed.  No  axe 
had  leveled  the  giant  progeny  of  the  crowded  groves,  in  which 
the  fantastic  forms  of  withered  limbs  that  had  been  blasted  and 
riven  by  lightning  contrasted  strangely  with  the  verdant  fresh- 
ness of  a  younger  growth  of  branches.  The  wanton  grape-vine, 
seeming  by  its  own  power  to  have  sprung  from  the  earth  and  to 
have  fastened  its  leafy  coils  on  the  top  of  the  tallest  forest  tree. 


$6  EXPLORATIONS    AND    SETTLEMENTS.  [1609. 

swung  in  the  air  with  every  breeze  like  the  loosened  shrouds  of  a 
ship.  Reptiles  sported  in  stagnant  pools,  or  crawled  unharmed 
over  piles  of  mouldering  trees."  Red  men,  too,  were  there : 
sometimes  conciliatory,  as  when  they  flocked  about  in  their 
canoes  to  barter  grapes,  pumpkins,  and  furs  for  beads  and  knives ; 
sometimes  vindictive,  as  when  they  beset  the  little  exploring  boat 
and  sent  Hudson's  long-time  comrade  to  a  grave  on  the  beach. 

About  the  time  that  John  Smith  went  back  to  England,  Hud- 
son turned  his  prow  toward  Holland.  His  voyage  had  rendered 
his  name  immortal.  Legends  of  the  daring  sailor  still  live  among 
the  old  Dutch  families,  and  when  the  black  thunder-clouds  send 
their  crackling  peals  along  the  Palisades,  they  say,  "  Hendrick 
Hudson  and  his  crew  are  playing  nine-pins  now." 

It  was  the  golden  age  of  Dutch  commerce.  Holland  imme- 
diately laid  claim  to  the  country  and  named  it  "  New  Nether- 
LAND."  In  1613  some  huts  were  erected  on  the  present  site  of 
New  York.  The  year  after  the  landing  of  the  Pilgrims,  the 
Dutch  West  India  Company  obtained  a  patent  for  the  territory 
between  the  Delaware  and  the  Connecticut  Rivers.  To  every 
one  who  should  plant  a  colony  of  fifty  persons  they  offered  a 
iract  of  land  sixteen  miles  in  length,  which  they  and  their  heirs 
should  hold  forever.  These  proprietors  were  called  patroons,  or 
lords  of  the  manor.  The  famous  anti-rent  difficulties  of  after 
times  grew  out  of  these  grants. 

To  supply  the  requisite  number  of  emigrants,  ship-captains 
brought  over  many  poor  Germans,  whose  passage-money  was 
paid  by  the  patroons,  whom  they  were  in  turn  bound  to  serve  for 
a  given  term  of  years.  It  was  a  profitable  arrangement  for  all 
concerned.  During  the  period  of  service  the  Redemptioners^  as 
they  were  called,  gained  a  knowledge  of  the  language  and  ways 
of  the  country,  and  were  fitted  to  take  care  of  themselves  when 
they  became  independent.  In  that  charming  little  volume,  "■  New 
York  Society  in  the  Olden  Time,"  a  story  is  told  of  one  of  these 
settlers  who,  having  completed  his  bondage  of  several  years, 
quietly  produced  a  bag  of  gold  which  he  had  brought  over  with 
him,  and  which  was  sufficient  to  purchase  a  farm.  But,  said  his 
late  master  in  surprise,  "  why,  with  all  this  money,  did  you  not 
pay  your  passage,  instead  of  serving  as  a  redemptioner  so  long?" 
"  Oh,"  said  the  cautious  emigrant  from  the  Rhine,  "  I  did  not  know 
English,  and  I  should  have  been  cheated.  Now  I  know  all  about 
the  country,  and  I  can  set  up  for  myself."     Which  was  true  phil- 


1629.] 


SETTLEMENT    OF    NEW    YORK. 


57 


osophy.  These  industrious  settlers  became  respected  citizens, 
and  their  descendants  are  to-day  among  the  wealthy  farmers 
along  the  Hudson. 

Peter  Minuits  came  over  as  first  governor  in  1626.  He 
bought  the  Island  of  Manhattan  of  the  Indians  for  twenty-four 
dollars.  Here  was  founded  the  city  of  New  Amsterdam.  Trade 
was  opened  with  the  Indians,  and  canoes  pushed  up  every  neigh- 
boring inlet  to  barter  for  otter  and  beaver  skins.  Meanwhile 
there  was  trouble  with  the  Swedes  on  the  Delaware,  and  the 
English  on  the  Connecticut,  both  of  whom  had  settled  on  lands 
claimed  by  the  Dutch.  Then,  too,  there  was  a  fearful  massacre 
of  Indians,  perpetrated  by  Governor  Kieft,  and  in  revenge  the  war- 
whoop  echoed  through  every  forest 
glen,  and  not  a  farm  or  ''bowerie" 
was  safe.  The  colonists,  indignant  at 
his  cruel  folly,  sent  the  governor  home, 
but  he  was  wrecked  on  the  coast  of 
Wales  and  miserably  perished. 

Under  Governor  Stuyvesant  came 
better  times.  He  arranged  the  Con- 
necticut boundary  line ;  conquered 
New  Sweden,  as  the  colony  on  the 
Delaware  was  called ;  made  peace 
with  the  Indians,  and  built  a  palisade 
across  the  island  where  now  is  Wall 
street.  Dutch  industry  and  thrift 
meant  prosperity  here  as  well  as  in 
Holland.  From  the  first,  New  York 
was  a  cosmopolitan  city.  Even  at 
that  early  day  eighteen  languages 
were  said  to  be  spoken.  The  French 
Huguenots,  the  Italian  Waldenses, 
the  Swiss  Calvinists,  the  world-hated 
Jew,  all  found  a  home  and  a  refuge  in 
this  growing  colony.     The  island  was 

mostly  divided  into  farms.  The  Park  was  crowned  with  forest 
trees  and  used  for  a  common  pasture,  where  tanners  obtained 
bark  and  boys  gathered  chestnuts  for  half  a  century  later. 

With  all  Governor  Stuyvesant's  honesty  and  ability,  "  Head- 
strong Peter,"  as  they  called  him,  was  inclined  to  be  obstinate. 
He  especially  hated  democratic  institutions.     The  English  in  the 


GOVERNOR  STUYVESANT. 


$8  EXPLORATIONS    AND    SETTLEMENTS.  [1664. 

colony  looked  with  longing  eyes  on  the  rights  enjoyed  by  their 
Connecticut  brethren,  so  that  when,  in  1664,  an  English  fleet  came 
to  anchor  in  the  harbor  and  demanded  a  surrender  in  the  name  of 


THE    ENGLISH    LANDING   AT   NEW   YORK,    IOL/4. 


the  Duke  of  York,  there  was  secret  joy  in  the  town.  The  stout- 
hearted governor  had  been  a  brave  soldier  in  his  time,  and  he 
stumped  about  on  his  wooden  leg  at  a  terrible  rate,  angrily  tore 
up  the  letter  of  his  council  making  terms,  and  swore  he  would 
hold  the  place  at  every  cost.  But  the  burgomasters  made  him 
put  the  pieces  together  and  sign  the  surrender.  The  English 
flag  soon  floated  over  the  island,  and  the  name  of  the  colony  was 
changed  to  New  York  in  honor  of  the  new  proprietor.  England 
was  now  master  of  the  coast  from  Canada  to  Florida. 

The  English  governors  disappointed  the  people  by  not  granting 
their  coveted  rights.  A  remonstrance  against  being  taxed  with- 
out representation  was  burned  by  the  hangman.  So  that  when, 
after  nine  years  of  English  authority,  a  Dutch  fleet  appeared  in 
the  harbor,  the  people  went  back  quietly  under  their  old  rulers. 
But  the  next  year,  peace  being  restored  between  England  and 
Holland,  New  Amsterdam  became  New  York  again.  Thus  ended 
the  Dutch  rule  in  the  colonies.  Andros,  who  twelve  years  after 
played  the  tyrant  in  New  England,  was  the  next  governor.  He 
managed  so  arbitrarily  that  he  was  called  home.  Under  his 
successor,  Dongan,  there  was  a  gleam  of  civil  freedom.     By  per- 


1689.] 


SETTLEMENT    OF     NEW    YORK. 


59 


p  PETRUSr  5TUYVESANT 

I  CaptamGeneraiiGbvernorinChiefof  AmstenTam  j 

JnNewNefherlandT^ow  caJfed.New^lfSrlc 
An(ItheDutchWeitTnc[ial5land5.Die(£AD.I^ri| 
Aged    30  jears. 


Pf 


54: 


.x:^^ 


S^"^  V^^Av5^ 


?-^\^^- 


THE  TOMB  OF  PETER  STUYVESANT. 

(From  St.  Mark's  Church,  New  York.) 


mission  of  the  Duke  of  York,  he  called  an  assembly  of  the  repre- 
sentatives of  the  people.  This  was  but  transient,  for  two  years 
after,  when  the  Duke  of  York  became  James  II.,  king  of  England, 
he  forgot  all  his 
promises,  for- 
bade legislative 
assemblies,  pro- 
hibited print- 
ing-presses, 
and  annexed 
the  colony  to 
New  England. 
When,  how- 
ever, Andros 
was  driven  from 
Boston,  Nichol- 
son, his  lieuten- 
ant and  apt  tool 
of  tyranny  in 
New  York,  fled 

at  once.  Captain  Leisler,  supported  by  the  democracy,  but  bit- 
terly opposed  by  the  aristocracy,  thereupon  administered  affairs 
very  prudently  until  the  arrival  of  Governor  Slaughter,  who  ar- 
rested him  on  the  absurd  charge  of  treason.  Slaughter  was  unwil- 
ling to  execute  him,  but  Leisler's  enemies,  at  a  dinner  party,  made 
the  governor  drunk,  obtained  his  signature,  and  before  he  became 
sober  enough  to  repent,  Leisler  was  no  more.  The  people  were 
greatly  excited  over  his  death,  and  cherished  pieces  of  his  clothing 
as  precious  relics.  For  long  after,  party  strife  ran  high  and  bitter 
over  his  martyrdom. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  seventeenth  century,  Captain  Kidd  was 
noted  as  a  bold  and  skillful  shipmaster.  He  distinguished  himself 
as  a  privateersman  against  the  French  in  the  West  Indies,  and 
received  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  for  protecting  New  York 
city  from  pirates,  who  at  that  time  infested  the  ocean  highways. 
Being  sent  out  against  these  sea-robbers,  he  finally  became  a  pirate 
himself  Returning  from  his  guilty  cruise,  he  boldly  appeared  in 
the  streets  of  Boston,  where  he  was  captured  in  the  midst  of  a  prom- 
enade. He  was  carried  to  England,  tried,  and  hung.  His  name 
and  deeds  have  been  woven  into  popular  romance,  and  the  song 
'  My  name  is  Captain  Kidd,  as  I  sailed,  as  I  sailed,"  is  well  known. 


6o 


EXPLORATIONS  AND  SETTLEMENTS. 


[1664. 


He  is  believed  to  have  buried  his  ill-gotten  riches  on  the  coast  of 
Long  Island  or  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  and  these  localities  have 
suffered  many  a  search  from  credulous  persons  seeking  for  Kidd's 
treasure. 

When  New  Netherland  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  Duke  of 
York,  he  sold  the  portion  between  the  Hudson  and  the  Delaware 
to  Lord  Berkeley  and  Sir  George  Carteret.  This  tract  took  the 
name  of  Jersey  in  honor  of  Carteret,  who  had  been  governor  of 
the  island  of  Jersey  in  the  British  Channel.     The  first  settlement, 

which  was  a  cluster  of  only  four 
houses,  was  called  Elizabethtown, 
after  his  wife.  His  portion  was  called 
East,  and  Lord  Berkeley's  West  New 
Jersey.  The  colonists  were  led  by  a 
brother  of  the  proprietor,  who  came 
with  a  hoe  on  his  shoulder  to  remind 
the  people  of  the  way  to  fortune  and 
prosperity.  The  Quakers,  Scotch 
Presbyterians,  and  others  persecuted  for  conscience  sake,  grad- 
ually occupied  the  country.  Constant  trouble  prevailed  among 
the  settlers  regarding  the  land  titles,  and  in  1702  the  proprietors 
gave  up  their  rights,  and  ^'  the  Jerseys,"  as  the  colony  was  long 
known,  became  a  royal  province. 


SEALS  OF  NEW  AMSTERDAM  AND 
NEW  YORK. 


-'i==S^>^^i><^,^^:s-^ 


gETTLEME)MT    Of    PENN3YI.VAJMIA. 

William  Penn,  the  founder  of  Pennsylvania,  was  a  celebrated 
English  Quaker.  Wishing  to  establish  a  home  for  the  oppressed 
Friends  in  England,  he  secured  from  Charles  IL  the  grant  of  a  large 
tract  west  of  the  Delaware,  in  lieu  of  sixteen  thousand  pounds  due 
his  father  by  the  crown,  on  condition  of  paying  annually  two  beaver 
skins.  This  territory  Penn  wished  to  have  called  Sylvania  (sylva^ 
forest),  as  it  was  covered  with  woods ;  but  the  king  ordered  it  to 
be  styled  Pennsylvania,  and  although  Penn  offered  the  secretary 
twenty  guineas  to  erase  the  prefix,  his  request  was  denied.  Penn 
immediately  sent  a  body  of  emigrants  to  begin  the  "  holy  experi- 
ment," and  came  himself  the  next  year  in  the  ship  "  Welcome." 
Right  royally  was  he  welcomed  by  the  settlers  already  within  the 


1682.] 


SETTLEMENT    OF    PENNSYLVANIA. 


6l 


boundaries  of  his  land,  for  his  first  proclamation  had  preceded 
him  with  the  spirit  of  a  benediction.  "  I  hope  you  will  not  be 
troubled  at  your  chainge  and  the  king's  choice,"  he  wrote,  "  for 
you  are  now  fixt,  at  the  mercy  of  no  governour  that  comes  to  make 
his  fortune  great.  You  shall  be  governed  by  laws  of  your  own 
makeing,  and  live  a  free,  and  if  you  will,  a  sober  and  industrious 
people.  God  has  furnisht  me  with  a  better  resolution,  and  has 
given  me  His  grace  to  keep  it."  On  the  beautiful  banks  of  the 
Delaware,  in  1683,  he  laid  the  foundations  of  Philadelphia,  the 
"  City  of  Brotherly  Love,"  which 
he  intended  should  be  a  ''  faire  and 
greene  country  toune,"  with  gar- 
dens around  every  house.  It  was 
in  the  midst  of  the  forest,  and  the 
startled  deer  bounded  past  the  set- 
tler who  came  to  survey  his  new 
home.  Yet  within  a  year  it  had 
one  hundred  houses ;  in  two  years 
numbered  over  two  thousand  in- 
habitants ;  and  in  three  years  had 
gained  more  than  New  York  in 
half  a  century. 

The  government  was  most 
happily  inaugurated,  while  the 
Philadelphia  mansions  were  as  yet 
mainly  hollow  trees.  A  legisla- 
ture appointed  by  the  people  was 
to  make  all  the  laws.  Every  sect 
was  to  be  tolerated.  Any  freeman 
could  vote  and  hold  office  who  believed  in  God  and  kept  the 
Lord's  day.  No  tax  could  be  levied  but  by  law.  Every  child  was 
to  be  taught  a  useful  trade.  It  seemed  to  be  Penn's  only  desire  to 
make  the  little  colony  as  happy  and  free  as  could  be.  Under  a 
large  spreading  elm  at  Shackamaxon,  Penn  attended  a  council  of 
the  Indian  chiefs.  "  We  meet,"  said  he,  "  on  the  broad  pathway  of 
good  faith  and  good  will ;  no  advantage  shall  be  taken  on  either 
side,  but  all  shall  be  openness  and  love.  The  friendship  between 
you  and  me  I  will  not  compare  to  a  chain;  for  that  the  rains 
might  rust,  and  the  falling  tree  might  break.  We  are  the  same  as 
if  one  man's  body  were  to  be  divided  into  two  parts ;  we  are  all 
one  flesh  and  blood."     The  savages  were  touched  by  his  gentle 


STATUE  OF   PENN  IN   PHILADELPHIA. 


62  EXPLORATIONS    AND    SETTLEMENTS.  [1683. 

words  and  kindly  bearing.  "  We  will  live  in  love  with  William 
Penn  and  his  children,"  said  they,  "  as  long  as  the  sun  and  moon 
shall  shine."  They  kept  the  history  of  the  treaty  by  means  of 
strings  of  wampum,  and  would  often  count  over  the  shells  on  a 
clean  piece  of  bark  and  rehearse  its  provisions.  "  It  was  the  only 
treaty  never  sworn  to,  and  the  only  one  never  broken."  On 
every  hand  the  Indians  waged  relentless  war  with  the  colonies, 
but  they  never  shed  a  drop  of  Quaker  blood.  Penn  often  visited 
their  wigwams,  shared  in  their  sports,  and  talked  to  them  of  God 
and  Heaven.  He  found  even  in  the  breast  of  the  red  man  of  the 
forest  a  response  to  his  faithful  teachings  and  pure  example. 
They  gave  him  the  name  Onas,  and  the  highest  compliment  they 
could  confer  on  any  person  was  to  say  he  was  like  Onas. 

Penn  soon  returned  to  England.  Fifteen  years  afterward  he 
came  back  with  his  family,  intending  to  make  the  New  World 
his  home.  But  he  could  not  shut  out  disturbance  and  conflict. 
The  boundary  between  Maryland  and  Pennsylvania  was  uncer- 
tain. It  was  not  settled  until  1767,  when  two  surveyors.  Mason 
and  Dixon,  ran  the  line  since  famous  as  Mason  and  Dixon's  line. 
The  "  Three  Counties  on  the  Delaware  "  became  discontented. 
Penn  gave  them  a  deputy-governor  and  an  assembly  of  their  own. 
Delaware  and  Pennsylvania,  however,  remained  under  one  gov- 
ernment till  the  Revolution.  The  colonists  of  Pennsylvania  were 
unwilling  to  pay  the  rents  by  which  Penn  sought  to  reimburse 
himself  for  his  heavy  outlay,  and,  not  content  with  the  privileges 
already  secured,  constantly  sought  to  weaken  the  authority  of 
their  benefactor.  Penn  sorrowfully  returned  to  his  native  land, 
and  finally  died  in  want  and  obscurity. 


^-^-S^^A^gtNC^^ 


gETTLEMEJMT    Of    THE    cyVF{OLINy\g. 

Carolina,  as  we  have  seen,  was  first  named  in  honor  of  a 
French  monarch  ;  but  it  remained  for  the  English  to  settle  the 
country.  A  company  of  religious  refugees  from  Virginia  had 
already  pushed  through  the  wilderness  and  '*  squatted "  near 
the  mouth  of  Chowan  River.  Here  they  established  the  Albe- 
marle colony.  In  1663,  Charles  II.,  who  in  his  lavish  igno- 
rance  had    given    away   half    the    continent,   granted    the   vast 


1663.]  SETTLEMENT    OF    THE    CAROLINAS.  63 

territory  south  of  Virginia  to  eight  proprietors,  chiefly  his  cour- 
tiers and  ministers.  The  plan — the  "  grand  model,"  as  it  was 
called — of  the  colony  which  they  proposed  to  establish  was 
drawn  up  by  Lord  Shaftesbury  and  the  famous  philosopher,  John 
Locke.  It  was  the  wonder  of  the  day.  All  the  vast  territory — 
embracing  the  present  States  of  North  and  South  Carolina, 
Georgia,  Tennessee,  Alabama,  Mississippi,  Louisiana,  Arkansas, 
Florida,  Missouri,  and  a  large  part  of  Texas  and  Mexico — was  to 
be  divided  into  counties,  each  containing  four  hundred  and  eighty 
thousand  acres.  Over  each  county  were  to  be  a  landgrave  and 
two  caciques  or  barons.  They  were  to  hold  one-fifth  of  the  land, 
and  the  proprietors  one-fifth,  leaving  the  balance  to  the  people. 
No  one  owning  less  than  fifty  acres  could  vote ;  while  tenants 
were  to  be  merely  serfs,  and  slaves  were  to  be  at  the  absolute 
will  of  their  masters. 

The  emigrants  sent  out  by  the  English  proprietors  first  sailed 
into  the  well-known  waters  where  Ribaut  had  anchored  over  a 
century  before,  but  afterward  removed  to  the  ancient  groves  cov- 
ered with  yellow  jasmine,  which  marked  the  site  of  the  present  city 
of  Charleston,  then  only  Oyster  Point.  The  growth  of  the  new 
colony  was  rapid.  Thither  came  ship-loads  of  Dutch  from  New 
York,  dissatisfied  with  the  English  rule  and  attracted  by  the 
genial  climate.  The  French  Huguenots,  after  the  revocation  of 
the  Edict  of  Nantes,  flocked  to  the  land  where  religious  perse- 
cution was  to  be  forever  unknown.  Their  church  was  in  Charles- 
ton; and  ''thither  on  every  Lord's  day,  gathering  from  their 
plantations  on  the  banks  of  the  Cooper,  they  might  be  seen,  the 
parents  with  their  children,  making  their  way  in  light  skiff's, 
through  scenes  so  tranquil  that  silence  was  broken  only  by  the 
rippling  of  oars  and  the  hum  of  the  flourishing  village  at  the 
confluence  of  the  rivers."  The  Huguenot  settlers  were  a  valua- 
ble acquisition  to  Charleston.  At  one  time  they  numbered  sixteen 
thousand,  and  added  whole  streets  to  the  city.  Many  of  them  were 
from  families  of  marked  refinement  in  France,  and  their  elegant 
manners,  no  less  than  their  industry,  charity,  and  morality,  made 
an  impress  on  the  growing  town.  They  brought  the  mulberry 
and  olive  from  their  own  sunny  land,  and  established  magnificent 
plantations  on  the  banks  of  the  Cooper  River.  They  also  intro- 
duced many  choice  varieties  of  pears,  which  still  bear  illustrious 
Huguenot  names.  Their  eminently  honorable  descendants  have 
borne  a  proud  part  in  the  establishment  of  the  American  Repub- 


64 


EXPLORATIONS    AND    SETTLEMENTS. 


[1665. 


lie.  Of  seven  presidents  who  were  at  the  head  of  the  Philadel- 
phia Congress  during  the  Revolution,  three  were  of  Huguenot 
parentage. 


^^fvS<tmti}-y  ess-  "^j^  ' 


^c«- 


HUGUENOTS  GOING  TO   CHURCH. 


A  body  of  planters  from 
the  Barbadoes  had,  ere  this, 
brought  African  slaves  with 
them.  Their  labor  proving 
very  profitable,  in  a  few  years 
they  were  introduced  to  such  an  extent  that  they  nearly  doubled 
the  whites  in  number.  A  little  incident  which  happened  in  1694 
had  much  to  do  with  the  early  prosperity  of  the  colony.  The 
captain  of  a  ship  from  Madagascar  gave  to  Governor  Smith 
a  bag  of  seed  rice,  saying  that  it  was  much  esteemed  for  food 
in  Eastern  countries.  The  governor  shared  it  with  his  friends, 
and  they  all  planted  it  in  different  soils  to  test  its  fitness  for  the 
American  climate.  It  lived  and  thrived ;  and  thus  was  introduced 
what  shortly  became  an  important  staple. 

The  Great  Model  was  an  aristocratic  scheme.  The  democrats 
of  the  New  World,  fleeing  persecution  and  tyranny  at  home, 
living  in  log-cabins,  and  dressing  in  homespun  and  deer-skins, 
would  none  of  it,  and  it  was  soon  abandoned.  The  colonists  were 
therefore  allowed  to  have  an  assembly  chosen  by  themselves,  the 
governor  only  being  appointed  by  the  proprietors — the  northern 


1729.] 


SETTLEMENT    OF    GEORGIA. 


65 


and  southern  colonies,  on  account  of  their  remoteness  from  each 
other,  having  each  its  own.  There  were  still  great  difficulties 
with  the  proprietors  about  rents,  taxes,  and  rights,  untill  in  1729, 
the  Carolinas  became  a  royal  province. 


gETTX.EJVlE]MT    OF    QEORQIA. 

Georgia  was  the  last  to  be  planted  of  the  famous  thirteen 
colonies.  America,  which  was  now  a  home  for  the  oppressed  of 
all  religious  faiths — Huguenots,  Puritans,  Presbyterians,  Quakers, 
and  Catholics — was  also  to  become  an  asylum  for  afflicted  debt- 
ors. James  Oglethorpe  obtained  from  George  II.  a  tract  of  land 
which  was  named  Georgia  in  honor  of  the  king.  Oglethorpe 
himself  accompanied  the  first  body  of  emigrants  to  their  new 
home.  His  kindly  mien,  like  that  of  another  Penn,  won  the  love 
of  the  Indians.  One  of  the  chiefs 
gave  him  a  buffalo's  skin  with  the 
head  and  feathers  of  an  eagle  painted 
on  the  inside  of  it.  ''  The  eagle," 
said  the  warrior,  "signifies  swift- 
ness ;  and  the  buffalo,  strength.  The 
English  are  swift  as  a  bird  to  fly  over 
the  vast  seas,  and  as  strong  as  a  beast 
before  their  enemies.  The  eagle's 
feathers  are  soft  and  signify  love ; 
the  buffalo's  skin  is  warm  and  means 
protection ;  therefore  love  and  pro- 
tect our  families."  Another  chief 
addressed  him  thus :  "  We  are  come 
twenty-five  days  journey  to  see  you. 
When  I  heard  you  were  come,  and 
that  you  are  good  men,  I  came  down 
that  I  might  hear  good  things." 

In  1733  Oglethorpe  laid  out  the  city  of  Savannah  in  broad 
avenues  and  open  squares,  and  here  he  lived  for  a  year,  in  a  tent 
pitched  beneath  four  beautiful  forest  pines.  Soon  after,  a  com- 
pany of  German  Lutherans  set  out  on  foot  from  their  homes  in 
Salzburg,  and  walked  to  Frankfort,  chanting  hymns  of  deliver- 
5 


GENERAL  OGLETHORPE.   AGED    I02. 

(From  an  Old  Print.) 


66 


EXPLORATIONS    AND    SETTLEMENTS. 


[1734. 


ance  as  they  went.  Taking  ship,  in  due  time  they  also  reached 
the  land  of  the  refugee.  Sturdy  Scotch  Highlanders  settled  at 
Darien.  Hither,  also,  came  John  and  Charles  Wesley,  full  of  zeal 
for  the  conversion  of  the  Indians  and  the  religious  good  of  the 
young  colony.  A  little  later,  George  Whitefield  stirred  the 
people  by  his  wonderful  eloquence.  At  one  time,  sixty  thousand 
were  gathered  to  hear  him,  and  his  open-air  meetings  were  often 
attended  by  from  twenty  thousand  to  forty  thousand  people. 

Georgia,  as  well  as  Carolina,  bordered  on  Florida,  and  there 
were  several  contests  between  the  young  colonies  and  their 
Spanish  neighbors.  The  South  Carolinians  and  the  Georgians 
each  fruitlessly  invested  St.  Augustine  (1702  and  1740),  and  the 
Spaniards,  in  turn,  attacked  Charleston  and  Savannah  (1706  and 
1742).  Little,  however,  resulted  from  these  spurts  of  national 
hatred,  except  to  make  more  apparent  the  necessity  of  bringing 
Florida  under  the  English  crown. 

The  laws  of  the  Georgian  colony  were  very  irksome.  The 
trustees  limited  the  size  of  a  man's  farm,  allowed  no  woman  to 
inherit  land,  and  forbade  the  importation  of  slaves  or  of  rum. 
The  last  law  cut  off  a  large  source  of  profit,  as  a  valuable  trade 
of  lumber  for  rum  had  sprung  up  with  the  West  Indies.  Wearied 
by  complaints,  the  trustees  surrendered  the  colony  to  the  crown, 
and  Georgia  became  a  royal  province,  like  the  other  colonies. 


i-ENN  S  TREATY  TRSB. 


CHAPTER    III. 

COLOJ^IAL     WA(kS. 


^^ 


HILE  the  English  had  thus  estab- 
lished themselves  on  the  Atlan- 
tic coast,  the  settlement  of  New- 
France  had  gone  on  apace.  The 
same  year  that  Henry  Hudson 
sailed  north  up  the  river  which 
now  bears  his  name,  Champlain,  a 
French  explorer  who  had  already 
founded  Quebec,  penetrating  the 
wilds  of  New  York  southward, 
discovered  the  beautiful  lake  which 
was  henceforth  to  be  called  in  his 
honor.  While  most  of  the  English 
colonists  steadily  pushed  back  the  Indians  from  their  advancing 
settlements,  making  but  slight  efforts  for  their  conversion  or 
civilization,  the  French  intermarried  with  them,  mingled  in  their 
sports,  shared  their  scanty  fare,  and,  in  their  government  of  them, 
always  joined  kindness  to  firmness.  They  sought,  not  to  drive 
away  the  natives,  but  to  make  the  most  of  them.  Their  scheme 
of  colonization,  in  fact,  seemed  to  embrace  but  two  objects — the 
mission  work  and  the  fur  trade.  Jesuit  missionaries,  burning 
with  zeal  and  ardor,  flocked  to  the  banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence^ 
and  pushed  their  way  into  the  virgin  forest,  dismayed  by  no 
storm,  or  hostility,  or  pestilence.  Under  the  dripping  trees, 
through  the  sodden  snow,  amid  cruel  and  treacherous  tribes,  they 
moved  with  unflagging  courage,  asking  only  to  baptize  the  poor 
red  man,  and  ensure  to  his  soul  the  joys  of  the  upper  paradise. 
Many  of  these  indefatigable  pioneers  were  murdered  by  the 
savages ;  some  were  scalped,  some  burned  in  rosin-fire,  some 
scalded  with  hot  water;  yet,  ever,  as  one  fell  out  of  the  ranks. 


68 


COLONIAL    WARS. 


[1668. 


SAMUEL  CHAMPLAIN. 


another  sprang  forward,  cross  in  hand,  to  fill  his  place.     They  crept 
along  the  northern  lakes,  and,  in  1668,  founded  the  mission  of  San 

Ste.  Marie,  the  oldest  European 
settlement  in  Michigan.  Father 
Marquette  floated  in  a  birch-bark 
canoe  down  the  Wisconsin  to  the 
Mississippi  River.  Going  ashore 
one  day  at  his  hour  of  devotion, 
he  did  not  return.  His  followers 
sought  him,  and  found  that  he  had 
died  while  at  prayer,  with  his  eyes 
fixed  on  the  cross  he  had  carried  so 
long  and  so  faithfully. 

La  Salle,  a  famous  French  ad- 
venturer, descended  the  Great 
River  to  the  Gulf,  naming  the  country  on  its  banks  Louisiana,  in 
honor  of  Louis  XIV.  of  France.  Before  the  close  of  the  seven- 
teenth century,  the  French  had  explored  the  Great  Lakes,  the 
Fox,  Maumee,  Wabash,  Wisconsin,  and  Illinois  Rivers,  and  the 
Mississippi  from  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony  to  the  Gulf.  They  had 
traversed  a  region  including  what  is  now  known  as  Louisiana, 
Arkansas,  Mississippi,  Iowa,  Minnesota,  Nebraska,  Kansas,  the 
Canadas,  and  Nova  Scotia.  In  1688,  New  France  had  a  population 
of  eleven  thousand.  The  opening  of  the  eighteenth  century  found 
them  still  at  their  labor  of  colonization.  In  1700,  De  Tonty  built 
Fort  Rosalie  near  the  present  site  of  Natchez.  Fort  Detroit 
^was  erected  in  1701.  Mobile  was  settled  in  1702  and  became  the 
capital  of  all  Louisiana.  New  Orleans  was  founded  in  171 8,  and 
Vincennes  in  1735.  The  French  names  still  lingering  throughout 
the  Mississippi  valley  preserve  the  memories  of  its  early  settlers. 


Frequent  contests  broke  out  in  Europe  between  England  and 
France.  The  colonists  naturally  took  part  with  their  parent 
countries,  and  thus  the  flames  of  war  were  kindled  in  the  New 
World.  From  1689  to  1763 — three-fourths  of  a  century — the 
struggle  went  on.  The  series  of  quarrels  are  known  with  us  as 
''King  William's  War"  (1689-1697),  ''Queen  Anne's  War" 
(1702-1713),  "  King  George's  War"*  (1744-1748),  and  the  "  Old 
French  and  Indian  War"  (1754-1763).     There  were  frequent 


1689.] 


KING    WILLIAM'S    WAR. 


69 


MARQUETTE  DESCENDING  THE   MISSISSIPPI. 


pauses  in  the  strife,  but  it  was  really  and  always  a  continuation 
of  the  same  struggle ;  and  the  issue  was  to  decide  whether  the 
French  or  the  English  were  to  rule  the  continent.  The  Indians 
generally  sided  with  the  French.  They  were  armed  with  guns 
and  often  led  by  French  officers.  The  horrors  of  King  Philip's 
and  the  Pequod  wars  were  now  renewed  with  tenfold  intensity. 
The  border  settlers  were  in  constant  fear  of  the  tomahawk. 
""Children,  as  they  gambolled  on  the  beach  ;  reapers,  as  they 
gathered  the  harvest;  mowers,  as  they  rested  from  using  the 
scythe  ;  mothers,  as  they  busied  themselves  about  the  household, 
were  victims  to  an  enemy  who  disappeared  the  moment  a  blow 
was  struck,  and  who  was  ever  present  when  a  garrison  or  a 
family  ceased  its  vigilance."  Every  village  had  its  block  or  gar- 
rison house,  solidly  constructed,  and  surrounded  with  a  palisade 
of  logs ;  the  upper  story  sometimes  projected  beyond  the  lower, 
and  in  it  were  cut  loop-holes  for  firing  upon  the  invader. 
Thither  the  inhabitants  fled  for  shelter  at  any  alarm. 

One  June  evening  in  1689,  ten  squaws  applied  for  lodging — 
two  at  each  of  the  five  garrisoned  houses — in  Dover,  N.  H.  So 
secure  were  the  inhabitants  in  the  good  faith  of  the  Indians,  that 
every  family  but  one  not  only  granted  the  request,  but  also 
showed  them  how  to  unfasten  the  bolts  and  bars  of  the  doors  and 
;gates,  in  case  they  should  desire   to  go  out  during  the  night. 


70 


COLONIAL    WARS. 


[1690. 


Mesandowit,  one  of  the  chiefs,  was  entertained  at  Major  Wal- 
dron's  garrison,  as  he  had  often  been  before,  where  they  chatted 
pleasantly  together,  and  the  family  retired  to  rest  in  unsuspecting 
confidence.  When  all  was  quiet,  the  squaws  opened  the  gates 
and  gave  a  concerted  signal  to  the  concealed  Indians  without. 
Major  Waldron,  an  old  man  of  eighty  years,  awakened  by  the 
noise,  jumped  from  his  bed  and  fought  valiantly  with  his  sword, 
but  was  stunned  by  a  blow  from  a  tomahawk,  and  forced  into  an 
arm-chair,  which  was  mounted  on  the  long  table  where  he  had 
supped  with  his  betrayer.  ''  Who  shall  judge  Indians  now  ?  "  the 
savages  derisively  asked,  as  they  danced  about  their  veteran  cap- 
tive. Having  forced  the  inmates  of  the  house  to  prepare  food 
for  them,  they  regaled  themselves,  and  then,  wiping  their  knives, 
each  '^  crossed  out  his  account,"  as  they  mockingly  said,  upon  the 
Major's  body.  Horribly  mutilated  and  faint  with  the  loss  of 
blood,  he  was  falling  from  the  table,  when  one  of  them  held  his 
own  sword  under  him  and  thus  put  an  end  to  his  misery.  The 
family  were  all  killed  or  taken  prisoners,  and  the  house  was 
fired.  The  same  fate  befell  the  next  dwelling  and  its  inmates. 
The  third  house  was  saved  by  the  barking  of  a  dog,  which 
aroused  the  dwellers  in  time  to  protect  themselves.  At  Mr. 
Coffin's,  the  savages  found  a  bag  of  money,  and  amused  them- 
selves by  making  the  master  of  the  house  throw  it  on  the  floor  in 
handfuls,  while  they  scrambled  after  it.  They  then  took  him  to 
the  house  of  his  son,  who  had  refused  to  admit  the  squaws  the 
night  before,  and,  summoning  the  younger  Coffin  to  surrender, 

threatened  to  kill  his  father  be- 
fore his  eyes  if  he  refused.  Both 
of  these  families  were  confined  in 
a  deserted  house  for  safe  keep- 
ing until  the  savages  were  ready 
to  take  them  on  their  march,  but, 
while  their  captors  were  busy  in 
plundering,  they  happily  man- 
aged to  escape. 

A  war -party  of  French  and 
Indians  coming  down  from  Can- 
ada on  their  snow-shoes  in  the  depth  of  winter  (1690),  attacked 
Schenectady.  They  stealthily  dispersed  through  the  town,  and 
the  inhabitants  were  only  aroused  from  sleep  as  the  brutal  foe 
burst    into    their    houses.       Men,    women,    and    children   were 


A    FORTIFIED    HOUSE. 


1697.] 


KING    WILLIAM'S    WAR. 


71 


dragged  from  their  beds  and  massacred.    The  few  who  escaped 
fled  half-naked  through  the  blinding  snow  to  Albany. 


THE  INDIAN   ATTACK  ON   SCHENECTADY. 


In  March,  1697,  the  Indians  made  a  descent  upon  Haverhill, 
Massachusetts,  where  they  murdered  and  captured  about  forty 
persons,  and  burned  several  houses.  One  Mr.  Dustin  was  work- 
ing in  his  field.  He  hastened  to  his  home,  and  bidding  his  seven 
children  run  with  all  speed  to  a  neighboring  garrison,  seized  his 
gun,  mounted  his  horse,  and  set  out  after  them.  He  had  intended 
to  take  one  before  him  on  his  horse,  and  protect  the  rest  as  best  he 
might ;  but  when  he  overtook  them,  each  one  seemed  so  precious 
he  could  make  no  choice,  and  he  determined  that  they  should  live 
or  die  together.  Happily,  he  succeeded  in  keeping  the  Indians  at 
bay  until  a  place  of  safety  was  reached.  He  had  left  his  wife  ill 
in  bed  with  an  infant  child,  knowing  that  any  effort  to  save  her 
would  only  ensure  death  to  them  all.  She,  with  the  nurse  and 
child,  were  dragged  away  in  the  train  of  captives.  The  babe  of  a 
week  was  soon  disposed  of  in  Indian  fashion,  and,  as  the  strength 
of  other  prisoners  failed,  they  were  scalped  and  left  by  the  road- 
side. Mrs.  Dustin  and  nurse  kept  on  the  march  for  a  hundred 
and  fifty  miles,  when,  learning  that  the  captives  were  to  be  tor- 
tured to  death  after  their  destination  was  reached,  she  resolved 


72 


COLONIAL    WARS. 


[1704. 


upon  a  desperate  effort  to  escape.  In  the  dead  of  night  she  arose 
with  her  nurse  and  an  English  boy  who,  having  long  been  a 
prisoner,  had  learned  how  to  produce  death  with  one  blow  of 
the  tomahawk.  Taking  a  weapon,  she  killed  ten  of  the  sleep- 
ing Indians,  only  one  wounded  squaw  escaping.  Bringing 
away  the  scalps  on  her  arm  to  prove  her  wonderful  story,  she 
hastened  with  her  companions  to  the  river  bank,  unloosed  a  canoe, 
and  was  ere  long  restored  to  her  astonished  family. 

On  the  last  night  of  February,  1704,  while  the  snow  was  four 
feet  deep,  a  party  of  about  three  hundred  and  fifty  French  and 
Indians  reached  a  pine  forest  near  Deerfield,  Massachusetts. 
Skulking  about  till  the  unfaithful  sentinels  deserted  the  morning 
watch,  they  rushed  upon  the  defenceless  slumberers,  who  awoke 
trom  their  dreams  to  death  or  captivity.  Leaving  behind  the 
blazing  village  with  forty-seven  dead  bodies  to  be  consumed  amid 


MRS,   DUSTIN  DISPOSING  OF  HER  CAPTORS. 


t  he  wreck,  they  started  back  with  their  train  of  one  hundred  and 
twelve  captives.  The  horrors  of  that  winter  march  through  the 
wilderness  can  never  be  told.  The  groan  of  helpless  exhaustion, 
or  the  wail  of  suffering  childhood,  was  instantly  stilled  by  the  piti- 
less tomahawk.  Mrs.  Williams,  the  feeble  wife  of  the  minister, 
had  remembered  her  Bible  in  the  midst  of  surprise,  and  comforted 
herself  with  its  promises,  till,  her  strength  faiUng,  she  commended 
her  five  captive  children  to  God  and  bent  to  the  savage  blow  of 
the  war-axe.     One  of  her  daughters  grew  up  in  captivity,  em- 


OLD    FRENCH    AND    INDIAN    WAR. 


75 


74  COLONIAL    WARS.  [1750. 

braced  the  Catholic  faith,  and  became  the  wife  of  a  chief.  Years 
after,  dressed  in  Indian  costume  and  accompanied  by  her  warrior 
husband,  she  visited  her  friends  in  Deerfield.  The  whole  village 
joined  in  a  fast  for  her  deliverance,  and  every  persuasion  was 
used  to  induce  her  to  abandon  her  forest  life ;  but  her  heart  clung 
fondly  to  her  dusky  friends  and  her  own  Indian  children,  and  she 
went  back  to  the  fires  of  her  wigwam,  and  died  a  faithful  Mo- 
hawk. 

Such  scenes  of  horror  inspired  the  colonists  with  intense 
hatred  toward  the  Indians  and  their  French  allies.  A  bounty  as 
high  as  fifty  pounds  was  offered  for  every  Indian  scalp,  and  expedi- 
tions were  sent  against  the  French  strongholds.  Two  disastrous 
attempts  were  made  to  invade  Canada ;  Port  Royal  was  captured 
and  became  a  British  station  under  the  name  of  Annapolis  ;  and, 
finally,  Louisburg  was  taken.  This  had  been  called  the  "  Gib- 
raltar of  America,"  and  its  fortifications  cost  five  million  dollars. 
It  quickly  fell,  however,  before  the  rude  attacks  of  General  Pep- 
perell's  army  of  four  thousand  undisciplined  farmers  and  fishermen. 
The  last  words  of  Whitefield,  then  in  Boston,  to  the  little  army  as 
it  set  sail,  had  been,  "  Nothing  is  to  be  despaired  of  when  Christ  is 
the  leader."  When  the  army  came  inside  the  city  and  beheld  the 
almost  impregnable  fortifications  captured  so  easily,  they  were 
dismayed  at  the  very  magnitude  of  their  triumph.  It  seemed  to 
those  sturdy  Puritans  as  if  God  indeed  were  on  their  side,  and  by 
Him  alone  had  they  won  the  day. 

By  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century  the  French  had  sixty 
fortified  posts  guarding  the  line  of  their  possessions  from  Quebec 
to  New  Orleans.  They  were  determined  to  hold  all  west  of 
the  Alleghanies,  and  to  make  of  New  France  a  mighty  empire 
watered  by  the  St.  Lawrence,  the  Great  Lakes,  and  the  Mississippi. 
Every  fountain  which  bubbled  on  the  west  side  of  the  Alle- 
ghanies was  claimed  as  being  within  the  French  Empire.  But 
"  while  De  Bienville  was  burying  plates  of  lead  engraved  with 
the  arms  of  France,  the  ploughs  and  axes  of  Virginia  woodsmen 
were  enforcing  a  surer  title."  The  final  conflict  was  at  hand. 
The  English  settlers,  pushing  westward  from  the  Atlantic,  and 
the  French  fur-traders  and  soldiers  coming  down  from  the  north, 
began  to  meet  along  the  Ohio  river.  The  French  would  admit 
no  intruders.  Surveyors  were  driven  back.  A  post  on  the 
Monongahela  was  destroyed.  As  there  was  just  now  a  lull  in  na- 
tional hostilities  on  account  of  the  Peace  of  Aix-la-Chapelle  (1748), 


1753.] 


OLD    FRENCH    AND    INDIAN    WAR. 


75 


George  Washington,  a  promising  young  man  of  twenty-one,  was 
sent  by  Dinwiddie,  Lieutenant-Governor  of  Virginia,  to  demand 
an  explanation  from  the  French.     Washington  set  out  on  his  peril- 


OK   WASHINGTON  S  RETURN. 


ous  journey  the  same  day  on  which  he  received  his  credentials* 
He  found  St.  Pierre,  the  French  commandant  at  Fort  le  Boeuf 
very  polite  but  very  firm.  It  was  clear  that  France  was  deter- 
mined to  hold  the  territory  explored  by  the  heroic  La  Salle  and 
Marquette.  The  shore  in  front  of  the  fort  was  even  then  lined 
with  canoes  ready  for  an  intended  expedition  down  the  river. 
Washington's  return  through  the  wilderness,  a  distance  of  four 
hundred  miles,  was  full  of  peril.  The  streams  were  swollen.  The 
snow  was  falling,  and  freezing  as  it  fell.  The  horses  gave  out,  and 
he  was  forced  to  proceed  on  foot.  With  only  one  companion  he 
quitted  the  usual  path,  and,  with  the  compass  as  his  guide,  struck 
boldly  out  through  the  forest.  An  Indian,  lying  in  wait,  fired  at 
him  only  a  few  paces  off,  but  missing,  was  captured.  Attempting 
to  cross  the  Alleghany  on  a  rude  raft,  they  were  caught  in  the 
trembling  ice.  Washington  thrust  out  his  pole  to  check  the 
speed,  but  was  jerked  into  the  foaming  water.  Swimming  to  an 
island,  he  barely  saved  his  life.  Fortunately,  in  the  morning  the 
river  was  frozen  over,  and  he  escaped  on  the  ice.  He  at  last 
reached  home  unharmed,  and  reported  St.  Pierre's  avowed  de- 


76 


COLONIAL    WARS. 


[1754 


termination  to  abide  by  the  orders  under  which  he  declared  him- 
self. 

The  next  spring,  a  regiment  of  Virginia  troops  under  Colonel 
Frye,  Washington  being  second  in  command,  was  sent  to  occupy 
the  fork  of  the  Alleghany  and  Monongahela  Rivers.  Learning 
that  the  French  had  anticipated  them  and  already  erected  a  fort 
called  Du  Quesne  at  that  point,  Washington  hastened  forward  to 
reconnoitre.  Jumonville,  who  was  hiding  among  the  rocks  with 
a  detachment  of  French  troops  waiting  an  opportunity  to  attack 
him,  was  himself  surprised  and  slain.  Colonel  Frye  dying  soon 
after,  Washington  assumed  command,  and  collected  his  forces  at 
the  Great  Meadows,  behind  a  rude  stockade,  which  was  aptly 
named  Fort  Necessity.  Here  he  was  attacked  by  a  large  body 
of  French  and  Indians,  and  after  a  severe  conflict  was  compelled 
to  capitulate. 

The  contest  for  the  possession  of  the  continent  was  now 
evidently  at  hand.  The  crisis  was  imminent.  A  convention  of 
commissioners  from  all  the  colonies  north  of  the  Potomac  was  in 
session  at  Albany  to  concert  measures  of  defence.  A  union  of  the 
colonies  seemed  absolutely  necessary. 

Benjamin  Franklin  now  came  to  the  front.  He  was  well 
known  as  the  author  of  "  Poor  Richard's  Almanac,"  which  he 

had  published  for  upwards  of  twenty 
years,  and  which  had  attained  great 
popularity  in  Europe  as  well  as 
America.  Risen  from  a  poor  boy^ 
his  industry  and  native  talent  had 
already  procured  for  him  consider- 
able fortune,  and  he  had  just  begun 
those  experiments  in  electricity  which 
were  afterwards  to  render  his  name 
immortal.  To  this  philosopher  and 
statesman  the  convention  at  Albany 
deputed  the  task  of  drawing  up  a 
plan  for  the  proposed  confederation. 
There  was  to  be  a  governor-general 
appointed  by  the  king,  and  a  grand 
council  elected  by  the  colonial  assemblies.  After  much  discus- 
sion the  scheme  was  adopted,  but,  curiously  enough,  was  rejected 
by  the  king  because  it  gave  too  much  power  to  the  people ;  and 
by  the  people,  as  giving  too  much  power  to  the  crown. 


BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN. 


1755.] 


OLD    FRENCH    AND    INDIAN    WAR. 


77 


The  following  year,  an  expedition  of  English  and  colonial 
troops  set  out  under  General  Braddock,  Washington  acting  as 
aide-de-camp,  against  Fort  Du  Quesne.  As  the  army  toiled 
through  the  wilderness,  one  hundred  axemen  laboriously  hewed 
a  path  before  it,  while  the  gloom  of  the  forest  hemmed  it  in  on 
every  side.  The  general  was  a  regular  British  officer,  proud  and 
conceited.  '*  The  Indians,"  said  he,  **  may  frighten  continental 
troops,  but  they  can  make  no  impression  on  the  king's  regulars !  '* 


Washington  warned  him 
of  the  dangers  of  savage 
warfare,  but  his  sugges- 
tions were  received  with 
contempt.  The  column 
came  within  ten  miles  of 
the  fort,  marching  along 
the  Monongahela  in  reg- 
ular array,  drums  beating  and  colors  flying.  Suddenly,  in  as- 
cending a  little  slope,  with  a  deep  ravine  and  thick  underbrush 
on  either  hand,  they  encountered  the  Indians  lying  in  ambush. 
The  terrible  war-whoop  resounded  on  every  side.  The  British 
regulars  huddled  together,  and,  frightened,  fired  by  platoons,  at 


WASHINGTON   AT    BRADDOCK  S   DEFEAT. 


78  COLONIAL    WARS.  [1755. 

random,  against  rocks  and  trees.  The  Virginia  troops  alone 
sprang  into  the  forest  and  fought  the  savages  in  Indian  style. 
Washington  seemed  everywhere  present.  An  Indian  chief  with 
his  braves  especially  singled  him  out.  Four  balls  passed  through 
his  clothes,  and  two  horses  were  shot  under  him.  Braddock  was 
mortally  wounded  and  borne  from  the  field.  At  last,  when  the 
continental  troops  were  nearly  all  killed,  the  regulars  turned  and 
fled  disgracefully,  abandoning  everything  to  the  foe.  Washington 
covered  their  flight  and  saved  the  wreck  of  the  army  from  pursuit. 
While  this  disgrace  befell  the  English  arms  on  the  west,  far 
in  the  north  they  were  being  tarnished  by  an  act  of  heartless 
cruelty.  A  body  of  troops  sent  out  against  Acadia  (Nova  Scotia) 
easily  captured  the  petty  forts  on  the  Bay  of  Fundy.  The 
Acadians,  a  rural,  simple-minded  people,  wished  to  be  left  to  till 
their  farms  in  peace.  They  gladly  gave  up  their  arms  and 
promised  to  remain  neutral.  Refusing,  however,  to  take  the  oath 
of  allegiance  to  King  George  II.,  their  houses  were  fired  and 
they  driven  on  board  ship  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet.  In  the 
confusion  of  a  forced  embarkation,  wives  were  separated  from 
husbands  and  children  from  parents,  never  again  in  this  world  to 
be  reunited.  Seven  thousand  of  these  helpless  people  were  dis- 
tributed through  the  colonies  from  Maine  to  Georgia. 

"  Scattered  were  they,  like  flakes  of  snow,  when  the  wind  from  the  North-east 
Strikes  aslant  through  the  fogs  that  darken  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland. 
Friendless,  homeless,  hopeless,  they  wandered  from  city  to  city, 
From  the  cold  lakes  of  the  North  to  sultry  Southern  Savannas, — 
From  the  bleak  shores  of  the  sea  to  the  lands  where  the  Father  of  Waters 
Seizes  the  hills  in  his  hands  and  drags  them  down  to  the  ocean, 
Deep  in  their  sands  to  bury  the  scattered  bones  of  the  mammoth. 
Friends  they  sought  and  homes  ;  and  many,  despairing,  heart-broken. 
Asked  of  the  earth  but  a  grave,  and  no  longer  a  friend  nor  a  fireside." 

For  years  the  colonial  newspapers  contained  advertisements 
of  these  scattered  exiles,  seeking  reunion  with  their  lost  ones. 
That  they  might  not  wander  back  to  their  old  home,  it  was  utterly 
desolated.  The  humble  household  relics,  dear  to  their  simple 
hearts,  perished  in  the  flames.  Cattle,  sheep,  and  horses  were 
seized  as  spoils  by  their  cruel  conquerors.  '*  There  was  none  left 
round  the  ashes  of  the  cottages  of  the  Acadians  but  the  faithful 
watch-dog,  vainly  seeking  the  hands  that  fed  him.  Thickets  of 
forest  trees  choked  their  orchards ;  the  ocean  broke  over  their 
neglected  dikes  and   desolated  their  meadows."      Such  was  the 


1756.]  OLD    FRENCH    AND    INDIAN    WAR.  /g 

fate  of  the  simple  Acadian  peasants,  about  which  Longfellow  has 
woven  his  sweet  and  imperishable  story  of  Evangeline. 

About  the  same  time  as  Braddock's  defeat,  a  force  under 
William  Johnson  was  sent  against  the  fort  at  Crown  Point.  He 
met  the  French  under  General  Dieskau  near  the  head  of  Lake 
George.  After  a  hot  engagement,  the  French  regulars  were 
defeated  by  the  backwoods  riflemen  and  their  gallant  com- 
mander severely  wounded.  In  the  pursuit,  Dieskau  was  found 
by  a  soldier  leaning  against  a  stump.  As  he  was  fumbling  for 
his  watch  with  which  to  propitiate  his  captor,  the  soldier,  think- 
ing him  to  be  searching  for  his  pistol,  shot  him.  The  refugees 
from  the  battle  fell  into  an  ambuscade  of  some  New  York  and  New 
Hampshire  rangers  and  were  utterly  routed.  This  memorable 
conflict,  says  Parkman,  has  cast  its  dark  associations  over  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  spots  in  America.  Near  the  scene  of  the 
evening  fight,  a  pool,  half  overgrown  by  weeds  and  water-lilies, 
and  darkened  by  the  surrounding  forest,  is  pointed  out  to  the 
tourist,  and  he  is  told  that  beneath  its  stagnant  waters  lie  the 
bones  of  three  hundred  Frenchmen,  deep  buried  in  mud  and 
slime.  Johnson,  however,  gained  nothing  by  his  victory,  but 
loitered  away  the  autumn  in  building  Fort  William  Henry. 

Two  years  of  disaster  followed.  In  1756,  the  French,  under 
Montcalm,  captured  Fort  Oswego  with  its  valuable  stores.  The 
missionaries  planted  a  cross  on  the  spot,  labeled,  "  This  is  the 
banner  of  victory ;"  and  by  its  side  was  placed  a  pillar  bearing 
the  arms  of  France  and  the  inscription,  "  Bring  lilies  with  full 
hands." 

The  following  year  Fort  William  Henry  was  forced  to  capit- 
ulate. The  English  were  guaranteed  a  safe  escort  to  Fort  Ed- 
ward. They  had  scarcely  left  the  fort,  however,  when  the  Indians 
fell  upon  them  to  plunder  and  slaughter.  In  vain  did  the  French 
officers  peril  their  lives  to  save  their  captives  from  the  lawless 
tomahawk.  "  Kill  me,"  cried  Montcalm,  in  desperation,  ''  but 
spare  the  English,  who  are  under  my  protection."  But  the  In- 
dian fury  was  implacable,  and  the  march  of  the  prisoners  to  Fort 
Edward  became  a  flight  for  life. 

With  1758  dawned  a  brighter  day.  William  Pitt,  the  warm 
friend  of  the  colonies,  was  now  Prime  Minister  of  England.  An 
army  of  fifty  thousand  men  was  raised,  twenty-two  thousand 
British  regulars  and  twenty-eight  thousand  colonial  troops.  This 
was  equal  to  half  the  entire  population  of  New  France.     Fort  Du 


8o 


COLONIAL    WARS. 


[1758. 


Quesne  was  captured,  and  as  the  English  flag  floated  in  triumph 
over  the  ramparts,  this  gateway  to  the  West  received  the  name 
of  Pittsburg.  The  success  was  mainly  due  to  the  exertions  of 
Washington.  On  his  return  he  was  elected  to  the  House  of 
Burgesses.  As  he  took  his  seat,  the  Speaker,  in  the  name  of  Vir- 
ginia, publicly  returned  thanks  to  him  for  his  services  to  his 
country.  Washington,  taken  by  surprise,  rose  to  reply.  Blush- 
ing and  trembling,  he  found  himself  unable  to  utter  a  word. 
"  Sit  down,  Mr.  Washington,"  interposed  the  Speaker,  with  a 
smile  of  regard ;  ''  your  modesty  equals  your  valor,  and  that  sur- 
passes the  power  of  any  language  I  possess." 

Louisburg,  which  had  been  given  up  to  the  French  by  treaty, 
was  retaken  during  this  campaign.  General  Abercrombie,  how- 
ever, though  he  had  the  largest 
army  yet  raised  in  the  provinces 
— fifteen  thousand  men  —  was  dis- 
astrously driven  back  from  before 
Fort  Ticonderoga.  The  wanderer 
in  Westminster  Abbey  to-day  finds 
the  memory  of  Lord  Howe,  who 
fell  in  this  repulse,  perpetuated  by 
a  tablet  erected  in  his  honor  by  the 
Assembly  of  Massachusetts. 

The  next  campaign  (1759)  was 
destined  to  be  decisive.  Montcalm 
had  received  no  reinforcements 
from  home ;  Canada  was  impover- 
ished and  food  was  scarce,  so  that 
even  the  garrison  in  Quebec  had 
daily  rations  of  but  half  a  pound 
of  bread,  and  the  inhabitants  were 
forced  to  be  content  with  two 
ounces.  Forts  Niagara,  Crown 
Point,  and  Ticonderoga,  feebly  defended  by  the  French,  were 
soon  taken.  Meanwhile  General  Wolfe,  sailing  up  the  St.  Law- 
rence, struck  a  more  vital  blow.  With  a  formidable  fleet  and 
eight  thousand  men,  he  laid  siege  to  Quebec.  The  citadel, 
however,  far  above  the  reach  of  their  cannon,  and  the  craggy 
bluff,  bristling  with  guns,  for  a  time  repulsed  every  effort.  At 
length  he  discovered  a  narrow  path  leading  up  the  steep  preci- 
pice.     Here   he   determined  to   land  his  troops,  ascend  to  the 


1759.]  OLD    FRENCH    AND    INDIAN    WAR.  8 1 

plain  above,  and  compel  Montcalm  to  come  out  of  his  intrench- 
ments  and  give  battle.     Sailing  several  miles  up  the  river,  he  dis- 


(jUEBEC    IN    EARLY   TIMES. 

embarked  his  men.  That  clear,  starry  night,  as  they  dropped 
down  with  the  tide  in  their  boats,  Wolfr,  who  was  just  recover- 
ing from  a  severe  illness,  softly  repeated  the  stanzas  of  a  new 
poem  which  he  had  lately  received  from  England.  Like  a  mourn- 
ful prophecy,  above  the  gentle  rippling  of  the  waters,  floated  the 
strangely  significant  words  from  the  lips  of  the  doomed  hero : 

"  The  boast  of  heraldry,  the  pomp  of  power, 

And  all  that  beauty,  all  that  wealth  e'er  gave, 
Await  alike  the  inevitable  hour : 
The  paths  of  glory  lead  but  to  the  grave." — Gray^s  Elegy, 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  as  he  closed  the  recital,  *'  I  would  rather 
be  the  author  of  that  poem  than  to  have  the  glory  of  beating  the 
French  to-morrow." 

Having  reached  the  landing-place,  his  men,  clambering  up  the 
steep  cliff,  quickly  dispersed  the  guard,  and  at  day-break  he  stood 
with  his  entire  army  drawn  up  in  order  of  battle  on  the  Plains  of 
Abraham.  Montcalm,  astonished  at  the  audacity  of  the  attempt, 
could  scarcely  believe  it  possible.  When  convinced  of  its  truth 
he  at  once  made  an  impetuous  attack.  Wolfe's  veterans  held 
their  fire  until  the  French  were  close  at  hand,  then  poured  upon 
6 


82  COLONIAL    WARS.  [1759. 

them  rapid,  steady  volleys.  The  enemy  wavered.  Wolfe,  placing 
himself  at  the  head,  now  ordered  a  bayonet  charge.  Already 
twice  wounded,  he  still  pushed  forward.  A  third  ball  struck  him. 
He  was  carried  to  the  rear.  "  They  run !  They  run !"  exclaimed 
the  officer  on  whom  he  leaned.  *' Who  run?"  he  faintly  gasped. 
''  The  French,"  was  the  reply.  "  Now  God  be  praised,  I  die 
happy,"  murmured  the  expiring  hero.  Montcalm,  too,  was 
fatally  wounded  as  he  was  vainly  trying  to  rally  the  fugitives. 
On  being  told  by  the  surgeon  that  he  could  not  live  more  than 
twelve  hours,  he  answered,  "  So  much  the  better.  I  shall  not  see 
the  surrender  of  Quebec." 

One  knows  not  which  of  these  two  heroes  to  admire  the  more. 
Posterity  has  honored  both  alike.  A  monument  inscribed  Wolfe 
AND  Montcalm  stands  to  their  memory  in  the  Governor's  Garden 
at  Quebec.  The  surrender  of  the  city  quickly  followed  the  defeat 
of  its  army.  The  next  year  the  fleur-de-lis  was  lowered  on  the 
flagstaff  of  Montreal,  and  the  cross  of  St.  George  took  its  place. 
Peace  was  made  at  Paris,  1763.  France  gave  up  all  the  country 
west  of  the  Mississippi  to  Spain,  who,  in  turn,  ceded  Florida  to 
England.  The  British  flag  now  waved  over  the  continent  from 
the  Arctic  Ocean  to  the  Gulf,  and  from  the  Atlantic  on  the  east  to 
the  "  Great  River"  on  the  west.  The  French  had  lost  their  foot- 
hold in  the  New  World  forever. 

The  English,  however,  were  not  left  in  quiet  possession  of 
their  vast  inheritance.  The  Indian  tribes  of  the  West  soon 
became  restive  under  their  new  and  harsher  masters.  Pontiac, 
head  of  the  Ottawas,  an  able,  cunning,  and  ambitious  chieftain, 
organized  a  wide-spread  conspiracy  for  the  simultaneous  destruc- 
tion of  the  British  garrisons.  All  the  Indian  shrewdness  was  ex- 
ercised in  accomplishing  this  design.  At  Maumee,  a  squaw  lured 
forth  the  commander  by  imploring  aid  for  an  Indian  woman  dying 
outside  the  fort.  Once  without,  he  was  at  the  mercy  of  the  am- 
bushed savages.  At  Mackinaw,  hundreds  of  Indians  had  gathered. 
Commencing  a  game  of  ball,  one  party  drove  the  other,  as  if  by 
accident,  toward  the  fort.  The  soldiers  were  attracted  to  watch 
the  game.  At  length  the  ball  was  thrown  over  the  pickets,  and 
the  Indians  jumping  after  it,  began  the  terrible  butchery.  The 
commander.  Major  Henry,  writing  in  his  room,  heard  the  war- 
cry  and  the  shrieks  of  the  victims,  and  rushing  to  his  window 
beheld  the  savage  work  of  the  tomahawk  and  the  scalping-knife. 
Amid  untold  perils  he  himself  escaped.     At  Detroit,  the  plot  was 


1760-3.]  OLD    FRENCH    AND    INDIAN    WAR.  83 

betrayed,  it  is  said,  by  a  squaw  who  was  friendly  to  Major  Glad- 
win, the  English  commander,  and  when  the  chiefs  were  admitted 
to  their  proposed  council  for  ''  brightening  the  chain  of  friend- 
ship," they  found  themselves  surrounded  by  an  armed  garrison. 
Pontiac  was  allowed  to  escape.  Two  days  after,  he  commenced 
a  siege  which  lasted  several  months.  Eight  forts  were  thus  cap- 
tured. Thousands  of  settlers  along  the  borders  fled  to  escape  the 
scalping-knife.  Finally,  the  Indian  confederacy  was  broken  up^ 
and  Pontiac,  fleeing  westward,  was  assassinated  while  endeavor- 
ing to  unite  his  dusky  allies  in  another  attempt  to  recover  thijir 
ancient  hunting-grounds. 

The  contest  which  had  given  America  to  England  really  con- 
ferred it  upon  the  colonists.  From  the  issue  of  the  old  French 
and  Indian  war,  date  the  thought  of  independence  and  the  ability 
to  achieve  it.  A  struggle  against  a  common  foe  had  knit  the  scat- 
tered colonists  together.  Sectional  jealousies  had  been  measur- 
ably allayed.  The  colonies  had  come  to  know  their  own  strength. 
The  emergency  had  forced  them  to  think  and  act  independently 
of  the  mother  country,  to  raise  men  and  money,  and  to  use  them 
as  they  pleased.  Minds  work  fast  in  hours  of  peril,  and  demo- 
cratic ideas  had  taken  deep  root  in  these  troublesome  times. 
Colonial  and  regular  officers  had  belonged  to  the  same  army ; 
and  although,  while  on  parade,  the  British  affected  to  ridicule  the 
awkward  provincial,  he  often  owed  all  his  laurels,  and  sometimes 
even  his  safety,  on  the  field  of  battle,  to  the  prudence  and  valor  of 
his  despised  companion.  Washington,  Gates,  Montgomery,  Stark, 
Arnold,  Rogers,  Morgan,  Putnam,  and  a  score  of  others,  had  been 
in  training  during  these  years,  and  had  learned  how  to  meet  evea 
British  regulars  when  the  time  came. 


THE   GRAVE   OF    BRADDOCK- 


CHAPTER   IV. 

COLOJ^IAL    LIFE. 

IHE  thirteen  colonies  now  (1774} 
numbered  about  two  million 
white  inhabitants  and  five 
hundred  thousand  negroes — 
mostly  slaves.  They  were 
mainly  scattered  along  the 
sea-coast  and  the  great  riv- 
ers, with  occasional  groups  of 
settlements  pushed  into  the 
backwoods  beyond.  Massa- 
chusetts, Rhode  Island,  and 
Connecticut  had  charter  gov- 
ernments. Maryland  and 
Pennsylvania  (with  Delaware) 
were  proprietary — that  is,  their  proprietors  governed  them. 
Georgia,  Virginia,  New  Hampshire,  New  York,  New  Jersey,  and 
the  Carolinas  were  directly  subject  to  the  crown.  Boston  and 
Philadelphia  were  the  principal  cities,  each  having  not  far  from 
+wenty  thousand  inhabitants.  New  York  contained  a  population 
of  about  twelve  thousand,  the  houses  not  yet  being  numbered. 
Charleston  had  about  eighteen  thousand.  Baltimore  and  Lan- 
caster (Pennsylvania)  had  each  about  six  thousand.  Agricul- 
ture was"  the  main  employment  of  the  people.  Manufactures, 
however,  even  at  this  early  period,  received  much  attention 
at  the  North.  Hats,  paper,  shoes,  household  furniture,  farming 
utensils,  and  the  coarser  kinds  of  cutlery  were  made  to  some 
extent.  In  an  advertisement  of  1769,  we  read :"  The  Bell 
Cart  will  go  through  Boston  before  the  end  of  next  month 
to  collect  rags  for  the  Paper  Mill  at  Milton,  when  all  people  that 
will  encourage  the  Paper  Manufactory  may  dispose  of  them." 
Cloth  -  weaving  had  been  introduced,  although  most  thrifty 
people   wove   their   own,  and   every  frugal  housewife   expected 


COMMERCE    AND    COINAGE.  85 

to  dress  her  family  in  homespun.  In  1753,  the  Society  for 
Promoting-  Industry  among  the  Poor,  at  its  anniversary,  ex- 
hibited, on  Boston  Common,  three  hundred  young  spinsters, 
each  with  her  wheel ;  and  a  weaver,  working  at  his  loom,  was 
carried  through  the  streets  on  men's  shoulders.  Commerce 
had  steadily  increased — principally,  however,  as  coast  trade,  in 
consequence  of  the  oppressive  laws  of  Great  Britain.  The  daring 
fishermen  of  New  England  already  pushed  their  whaling  crafts 
far  into  the  icy  regions  of  the  north.  At  the  time  of  the  Revolu- 
tion the  exports  of  the  colonies  were  about  four  million  pounds 
sterling,  and  the  imports  three  and  a  half  millions ;  the  exports, 
per  capita,  being  in  1769  nearly  equal  to  those  of  1869,  and  the 
imports  over  one-half  as  great.  Money  was  scarce.  Trade  was 
by  barter — a  coat  for  a  cow,  or  a  barrel  of  sugar  for  a  pile  of 
boards.  In  1635,  bullets  were  given  instead  of  farthings — the  law 
not  allowing  over  twelve  in  one  payment.  Massachusetts  was 
the  only  colony  to  coin  money.  A  mint  was  set  up  in  1652.  For 
thirty  years  all  the  coins  bore  the 
same  date.  They  are  known  as  the 
pine-tree  shillings,  sixpences,  etc. 
The  following  curious   anecdote  is 

told  concerning  this  coinage:  "Sir       x/^-<i^-^-..-/v^./    -  (» -"oow*-  v^r^j 
Thomas    Temple,    brother    of    Sir       \^^^^    ^""'"'S^S^ 
William    Temple,    resided    several 
years  in  New  England  during  the 

commonwealth.  After  the  Restoration,  when  he  returned  to 
England,  the  king  sent  for  him,  and  discoursed  with  him  on  the 
state  of  affairs  in  Massachusetts,  and  discovered  great  warmth 
against  that  colony.  Among  other  things,  he  said  they  had  in- 
vaded his  prerogative  by  coining  money.  Sir  Thomas,  who  was 
a  real  friend  to  the  colony,  told  his  Majesty  that  the  colonists 
had  but  little  acquaintance  with  law,  and  that  they  thought  it  no 
crime  to  make  money  for  their  own  use.  In  the  course  of  the 
conversation.  Sir  Thomas  took  some  of  the  money  out  of  his 
pocket,  and  presented  it  to  the  king.  On  one  side  of  the  coin 
was  a  pine-tree,  of  that  kind  which  is  thick  and  bushy  at  the  top. 
Charles  asked  what  tree  that  was.  Sir  Thomas  informed  him 
it  was  the  royal  oak  which  preserved  his  Majesty's  life.  This  ac- 
count of  the  matter  brought  the  king  into  good  humor,  and  dis- 
posed him  to  hear  what  Sir  Thomas  had  to  say  in  their  favor, 
calling  them  '  a  parcel  of  honest  dogs.*  " 


86 


COLONIAL    LIFE. 


The  first  printing-press  was  set  up  at  Cambridge  in  1639.  The 
first  book  printed  was  the  *'  Freeman's  Oath,"  the  second,  an 
almanac,  and  the  third  a  psalm-book.  Most  of  the  books  of  this 
day  were  collections  of  sermons.  The  first  permanent  newspaper, 
The  Boston  News  Letter,  was  published  in  1704.  In  1750  there 
were  only  seven  newspapers.  The  Federal  Orrery,  the  first  daily 
paper,  was  not  issued  till  1792.  The  first  circulating  library  in 
America  was  established  under  Franklin's  auspices  at  Philadel- 
phia in  1732.  There  was  a  public  library  in  New  York,  from 
which  books  were  loaned  at  four  and  a  half  pence  per  week.  In 
1754,  the  Society  Library  was  founded.  Eleven  years  later  there 
was  a  circulating  library  in  Boston  of  twelve  hundred  volumes. 
As  yet  very  few  books  had  been  printed  here.  Scarcely  any 
American  work  was  read  in  Europe.  There  was,  however,  a 
growing  taste  for  literature  and  art.  Jonathan  Edwards's  meta- 
physical writings  and  Franklin's  philosophical  treatises  had 
excited  much  attention  even  in  the  Old  World.  West  and 
Copley  had  already  achieved  a  reputation  as  artists  of  ability  and 
skill. 

The  usual  mode  of  travel  was  on  foot  or  horseback,  the  roads 
being  poor,  and  as  yet  few  bridges  across  the  rivers.  Chaises 
and  gigs,  however,  were  in  use,  with  their  high  wheels,  and  bodies 
hung  low  on  wooden  springs.  People  along  the  coast  journeyed 
largely  by  means  of  sloops  navigated  by  a  man  and  a  boy.  The 
trip  from  New  York  to  Philadelphia  occupied  three  days  if  the 
wind  was  fair.     There  was  a  wagon  running  bi-weekly  from  New 

York  across  New 
Jersey.  Conveyan- 
ces were  put  on  in 
1766,  which  made 
the  unprecedented 
time  of  two  days 
from  New  York  to 
Philadelphia.  They 
were,  therefore, 
termed  "  flying  machines."  The  first  stage  route  was  between 
Providence  and  Boston,  taking  two  days  for  the  trip. 

A  post-office  system  had  been  effected  by  the  combination 
of  the  colonies,  which  united  the  whole  country.  The  rate  of 
postage  was  fourpence  for  each  letter  if  carried  less  than  sixty 
miles,  sixpence   between  sixty  and  a  hundred  and  sixty  miles, 


THE  OLD   STAGE  COACH. 


EDUCATION    IN    THE    COLONIES.  8/ 

and  twopence  for  every  hundred  miles  thereafter.  A  mail  was 
started  in  1672,  between  New  York  and  Boston,  by  way  of  Hart- 
ford. By  contract  the  round  trip  was  to  be  made  monthly. 
Benjamin  Franklin  was  one  of  the  early  postmasters  -  general. 
He  made  a  grand  tour  of  the  country  in  his  chaise,  perfecting 
and  maturing  the  plan.  His  daughter  Sally  accompanied  him, 
riding  sometimes  by  his  side  in  the  chaise,  and  sometimes  on 
the  extra  horse  which  he  had  with  him.  It  took  five  months 
to  make  the  rounds  which  could  now  be  performed  in  as  many 
days. 

Education  early  made  great  progress.  Under  the  eaves  of  the 
church  the  Puritans  always  built  a  school-house.  The  records  of 
Boston  contain  the  following:  **  The  13th  of  ye  2nd  month,  1635. 
It  was  then  generally  agreed  upon  yt  our  brother  Philemon  Pur- 
mount  shall  be  intreated  to  become  schoolmaster  for  ye  teaching 
and  nourturing  of  all  children  with  us."  When  the  city  was  but 
six  years  old,  four  hundred  pounds  were  appropriated  to  the  semi- 
nary at  Cambridge,  now  known  as  Harvard  University.  Some 
years  after,  each  family  gave  a  peck  of  corn  or  a  shilling  in  cash  for 
its  support.  In  1700,  ten  ministers,  having  previously  so  agreed, 
brought  together  a  number  of  books,  each  saying  as  he  laid  down 
his  gift, ''  I  give  these  books  for  founding  a  college  in  Connecticut." 
This  was  the  beginning  of  Yale  College.  It  was  first  established 
at  Say  brook,  but  in  1716  was  removed  to  New  Haven.  It  was 
named  from  Governor  Yale,  who  befriended  it  most  generously. 
Earlier  than  this,  common  schools  had  been  provided,  not,  how- 
ever, free,  but  supported  by  voluntary  offerings.  In  1647,  Massa- 
chusetts made  the  support  of  schools  compulsory  and  education 
universal  and  free.  We  read  that,  in  1665,  every  town  had  a 
free  school,  and,  if  it  contained  over  one  hundred  families,  a  gram- 
mar school.  In  Connecticut  every  town  that  did  not  keep  a  school 
for  three  months  in  the  year  was  liable  to  a  fine. 

The  Middle  Colonies  had  already  their  colleges  and  many 
humbler  schools  scattered  through  the  towns.  In  the  Dutch 
period  it  was  usual  for  the  schoolmaster,  in  order  to  increase 
his  emoluments,  to  act  as  town-clerk,  sexton,  and  chorister ;  to 
ring  the  bell,  dig  graves,  etc. ;.  somewhat  after  the  custom  still 
preserved  in  the  country  schools  of  Germany.  Licenses  were 
granted  to  schoolmasters  for  exclusive  privileges. 

The  following,  given  by  an  English  governor,  Lovelace,  for  Al- 
bany, then  a  mere  rude  hamlet,  in  1670,  is  still  preserved  :  Where- 


88  COLONIAL    LIFE. 

as,  Jan  Jeurians  Beecker  had  a  Graunt  to  keep  y«  Dutch  school  at 
Albany  for  y®  teaching  of  youth  to  read  &  to  wryte  y^  which 
was  allowed  of  and  confirmed  to  him  by  my  predecessor  Coll. 
Richard  Nicolls  Notwithstanding  which  severall  others  not  so 
capable  do  undertake  y®  like  some  perticular  tymes  &  seasons  of 
y®  yeare  when  they  have  no  other  Imployment,  where  by  y®  schol- 
lars  removing  from  one  Schoole  to  another  do  not  onely  give  a 
great  discouragement  to  y^  maister  who  makes  it  his  businesse  all 
y^  yeare  but  also  are  hindred  &  become  y^  more  backwards  in 
there  learning  fFor  y®  reasons  aforesaid  I  have  thought  fitt  that  y® 
said  Jan  Jeurians  Beecker  who  is  esteemed  very  capable  that  way 
shall  be  y^  allowed  schoolmaster  for  y®  instructing  of  y^  youth  at 
Albany  &  partes  adjacent  he  following  y^  said  Imployment  Con- 
stantly &  diligently  &  that  no  other  be  admitted  to  interrupt  him 
It  being  to  be  presumed  that  y®  said  Beecker  for  y®  youth  & 
Jacob  Joosten  who  is  allowed  of  for  y^  teaching  of  y®  younger 
children  are  sufficient  for  that  place. 

Given  under  my  hand  at  ffort  James  in  New-Yorke  this  i6th 
day  of  May  1670. 

In  the  English  period  some  of  the  New  York  schools  were 
kept  by  Dutch  masters,  who  taught  English  as  an  accomplish- 
ment. In  1702,  an  act  was  passed  for  the  "  Encouragement  of  a 
Grammar  Free  School  in  the  City  of  New  York."  Kings  (now 
Columbia)  College,  was  chartered  in  1754.  It  is  a  noticeable  fact 
that  the  astronomical  instrument  known  as  the  Orrery,  invented 
by  Dr.  Rittenhouse  in  1768,  is  still  preserved  in  Princeton  College. 
No  European  institution  had  its  equal.  At  Lewiston,  Delaware, 
is  said  to  have  been  established  the  first  girls'  school  in  the  col- 
onies. The  first  school  in  Pennsylvania  was  started  about  1683, 
where  "reading,  writing,  and  casting  accounts"  were  taught,  for 
eight  English  shillings  per  annum. 

The  Southern  Colonies  met  with  great  difficulties  in  their  efforts 
to  establish  schools.  Though  Virginia  boasts  of  the  second  oldest 
college  in  the  Union,  yet  her  English  governors  bitterly  opposed 
the  progress  of  education.  Governor  Berkeley,  of  whose  haughty 
spirit  we  have  already  heard,  said,  "  I  thank  God  there  are  no  free 
schools  nor  printing-presses  here,  and  I  hope  we  shall  not  have 
them  these  hundred  years."  The  restrictions  upon  the  press  were 
so  great  that  no  newspaper  was  published  in  Virginia  until  1736, 
and  that  was  controlled  by  the  government.     Free  schools  were 


NEW    ENGLAND    IN    THE    SEVENTEENTH    CENTURY. 


89 


established  in  Maryland  in  1696,  and  a  free  school  in  Charleston, 
South  Carolina,  in  171 2.  Private  schools  were  early  established 
by  the  colonists  in  every 
neighborhood.  The  rich- 
er planters  commonly  sent 
their  sons  to  England  to 
be  educated. 

At  the  opening  of  the 
Revolution  there  were  nine 
colleges   in    the    colonies 
Harvard,     founded     1636 
William  and   Mary,   1693 
Yale,       1700;      Princeton, 
1 746 ;  University  of  Penn- 
sylvania, 1749;   Columbia, 
1754;    Brown    University, 
1764;     Dartmouth,      1769; 

Rutgers,  1770.    There  was  early  printing-press. 

no     law     or     theological 

school,  although  a  medical  school  had  been  founded  in  Philadel- 
phia 1762,  and  one  in  New  York  1769. 


J^^PN^^^^X^r^ 


NEW    E]MQLAND    IN    THE    SEVENTEENTH    CENTUF^Y. 

The  New  England  character  was  marked  by  severe  integrity. 
Conduct  was  shaped  by  a  literal  interpretation  of  the  Scriptures. 
Private  morals  were  carefully  watched  by  the  authorities  in 
church  and  state.  In  the  earliest  times  the  ministers  had  almost 
entire  control,  and  a  church  reproof  was  considered  the  heaviest 
disgrace.  But  something  further  was  soon  found  necessary  for 
less  tender  consciences  and  more  flagrant  offenders.  A  man  was 
whipped  for  shooting  fowl  on  Sunday.  The  swearer  was  made 
to  meditate  over  his  sin,  standing  in  a  public  place  with  his 
tongue  in  a  cleft  stick  ;  sometimes  he  was  fined  twelve  pence,  or 
set  in  the  stocks,  or  imprisoned,  "  according  to  the  nature  and 
quality  of  the  person."  In  exaggerated  offences,  the  unruly 
member  was  bored  through  with  a  hot  iron.  Minor  transgres- 
sions of  the  tongue  were  not  winked  at,  and  the  unhappy  house- 


90 


COLONIAL    LIFE. 


A  SCOLD  GAGGED. 


wife,  whose  temper  got  the  better  of  her  wisdom,  had  sorry 
leisure  for  repentance.      ^'  Scolds,"  says  Josselyn,  writing  of  the 

old  "  Body  of  Laws  of  1646," 
"they  gag  and  set  them  at 
their  doors  for  certain  hours, 
for  all  comers  and  goers. by 
to  gaze  at."  "  Ducking  in 
running  water "  is  also  men- 
tioned as  a  punishment  for 
this  class  of  offenders.  Philip 
RatclifFe,  of  the  colony,  was 
sentenced  to  "  be  whipped, 
have  his  ears  cut  off,  fined 
forty  shillings,  and  banished 
out  of  the  limits  of  the  juris- 
diction, for  uttering  mali- 
cious and  scandalous  speeches 
against  the  government  and 
the  church  of  Salem."  As 
to  the  "  prophanely  behaved  " 
person,  who  lingered  "  without  dores  att  the  meeting-house  on 
the  Lord's  dales,"  to  indulge  in  social  chat  or  even  to  steal  a 
quiet  nap,  he  was  "  admonished  "  by  the  constables  ;  on  a  second 
offence  "  sett  in  the  stockes,"  and  if 
his  moral  sense  was  still  perverted,  he 
was  cited  before  the  court.  If  any  man 
should  dare  to  interrupt  the  preach- 
ing or  falsely  charge  the  minister  with 
error,  '*  in  the  open  face  of  the  church," 
or  otherwise  make  **  God's  wayes  con- 
temptible and  ridiculous, — every  such 
person  or  persons  (whatsoever  censure 
the  church  may  passe)  shall  for  the  first 
scandall  bee  convented  and  reproved 

openly  by  the  magistrates  at  some  Lecture,  and  bound  to  their 
good  behaviour.  And  if  the  second  time  they  breake  forth  into 
the  like  contemptuous  carriages,  they  shall  either  pay  five  pounds 
to  the  publique  Treasure  or  stand  two  houres  openly  upon  a  block 
or  stoole  four  foott  high  uppon  a  Lecture  day,  with  a  paper  fixed 
on  his  Breast,  written  with  capitalle  letters,  An  open  and  obstinate 
contemner  of  God's  holy  ordinances^' 


r^T^:^-'^ 


THE    STOClCS. 


NEW  ENGLAND  IN  THE  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY,      91 

The  first  ''  meeting-houses  "  consisted  of  a  single  room,  per- 
haps twenty  by  thirty -six  feet  in  size  and  twelve  feet  high  "  in  the 
stud."  The  roof  was  either  shingled  or  thatched  with  long 
grass.  It  was  a  great  advance  when  they  were  able  to  have  it 
"  lathed  on  the  inside,  and  so  daubed  and  whitened  over,  work- 
manlike." They  were  afterwards  built  with  a  pyramidal  roof, 
crowned  with  a  belfry.  The  bell-rope  hung  from  the  centre,  and 
the  sexton  performed  his  office  half  way  between  the  pulpit  and 
the  large  entrance  door.  Such  a  meeting-house,  built  in  168 1, 
still  stands  in  Hingham,  Massachusetts. 

In  the  early  Plymouth  days  every  house  opened  on  Sunday 
morning  at  the  tap  of  the  drum.  The  men  in  ''  sad  colored  man- 
tles," and  armed  to  the  teeth,  the  women  in  sober  gowns, 
kerchiefs  and  hoods,  all  assembled  in  front  of  the  captain's  house. 
Three  abreast,  they  marched  up  the  hill  to  the  meeting-house, 
where  every  man  set  down  his  musket  within  easy  reach.  The 
elders  and  deacons  took  their  seat 
in  a  '*  long  pue  "  in  front  of  the 
preacher's  desk,  facing  the  congre- 
gation. The  old  men,  the  young 
men,  and  the  young  women  each 
had  their  separate  place.  The 
boys  were  gravely  perched  on  the 
pulpit-stairs  or  in  the  galleries,  and 
had  a  constable  or  tithing-man  to 
keep  them  in  order.  The  light 
came  straggling  through  the  little 
diamond  -  shaped  window-panes, 
weirdly     gilding    the     wolf-heads 

1    •      1         1  .  l  n  J.  THE   FIRST   CHURCH    ERECTED    IN   CONNECTICUT. 

which  hung  upon  the  walls— tro-  hartford,  1638. 

phies  of  the  year's  conquests.     As 

glass  was  scarce,  oiled  paper  was  sometimes  used  in  its  stead.  The 
service  began  with  the  long  prayer,  and  was  followed  by  reading 
and  expounding  of  the  Scriptures,  a  psalm — lined  by  one  of  the 
ruling  elders — from  Ains worth's  Version,  which  the  colonists 
brought  over  with  them,  and  the  sermon.  Instrumental  music 
was  absolutely  proscribed,  as  condemned  by  the  text  (Amos  v.  23), 
*'  I  will  not  hear  the  melody  of  thy  viols  "  ;  and  one  tune  for  each 
metre  was  all  those  good  old  fathers  needed.  Those  now  known 
as  York,  Hackney,  Windsor,  St.  Marys,  and  Martyrs  were  the 
standard  stock,  and  they  were  intoned  with  a  devout  zeal  almost 


92  COLONIAL    LIFE. 

forgotten  in  these  modern  times  of  organs  and  trained  choirs. 
The  approved  length  of  the  sermon  was  an  hour,  and  the  sexton 
turned  the  hour-glass  which  stood  upon  the  desk  before  the  min- 
ister. But  woe  to  the  unlucky  youngster  whose  eyelids  drooped 
in  slumber!  The  ever-vigilant  constables,  with  their  wands 
tipped  on  one  extremity  with  the  foot  and  on  the  other  with  the 
tail  of  a  hare,  brought  the  heavier  end  down  sharply  on  the  little 
nodding,  flaxen  head.  The  careworn  matron  who  was  betrayed 
into  a  like  offence  was  gently  reminded  of  her  duty  by  a  touch 
on  the  forehead  with  the  softer  end  of  the  same  stick.  After  the 
sermon  came  the  weekly  contribution.  The  congregation, 
sternly  solemn,  marched  to  the  front,  the  chief  men  or  magis- 
trates first,  and  deposited  their  offerings  in  the  money-box  held 
by  one  of  the  elders  or  deacons.  The  occupants  of  the  galleries 
also  came  down,  and  marching  two  abreast,  up  one  aisle  and 
down  another,  paid  respect  to  the  church  treasury  in  money, 
paper  promises,  or  articles  of  value,  according  to  their  ability. 
Among  other  provisions  made  or  recommended  for  the  support 
of  the  pastor,  we  find  the  following :  ''  1662.  The  court  proposeth 
it  as  a  thing  they  judge  would  be  very  commendable  &  bene- 
ficiall  to  the  townes  where  God's  providence  shall  cast  any 
whales,  if  they  should  agree  to  sett  apart  some  p'te  of  every 
such  fish  or  oyle  for  the  incouragement  of  an  able  and  godly 
minister  amongst  them." 

A  search  among  the  old  colonial  records  is  rewarded  by 
curious  glimpses  of  Puritan  character.  Old  bachelors  seem  to 
have  been  held  by  the  fathers  in  small  respect,  and  on  account  of 
the  "  great  inconvenience  "  arising  from  their  anomalous  condition, 
it  was  ordered  that  '*  henceforth  noe  single  p'sons  be  suffered  to  live 
of  himself  or  in  any  family,  but  as  the  celect  men  of  the  towne 
shall  approve  of."  No  youth  under  twenty-one  should  ''  take  any 
tobacko  untill  hee  had  brought  a  certificate  under  the  hands  of 
some  who  are  approved  for  knowledge  and  skill  in  phisick,  that  it 
is  useful  for  him,  and  also  that  he  hath  received  a  lycense  from 
the  courte  for  the  same."  We  read  of  fines  for  the  juryman  who 
should  indulge  in  tobacco  the  same  day  of  rendering  verdict ; 
also  for  all  persons — except  soldiers  on  training  days — who  used 
it  "  in  very  uncivil  manner  publickly  "  in  the  streets  ;  or  "  within 
ten  miles  of  any  house,  and  then  not  more  than  once  a  day  " ; 
penalties  for  the  "  bringing  in  to  the  colony  of  any  Quaker, 
Rantor,  or  other  notorious  heritiques,"  and,  strangest  of  all  to 


NEW  ENGLAND  IN  THE  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY.      93 

the  eyes  of  the  active,  wire-pulling  politician  of  to-day,  a  law 
that  any  who  ^'  were  elected  to  the  office  of  Governor,  and  would 
not  stand  to  the  election,  nor  hold  and  execute  the  office  for  his 
year,"  should  '*  be  amerced  in  Twenty  pounds  sterling  fine,"  as 
the  price  of  his  modesty  or  contumacy  !  O  for  the  refreshing 
shadow  of  our  great-grandfathers  to  overhang  the  nineteenth 
century  caucus  ! 

Fast  and  thanksgiving  were  the  great  public  days.  A  fast-day 
was  regularly  kept  at  the  season  of  annual  planting ;  but  days  of 
fasting  and  prayer  were  often  appointed  on  account  of  some  special 
or  threatened  calamity.  In  1644,  one  day  in  every  month  was  or- 
dered to  be  thus  observed.  Excellent  care,  however,  was  always 
taken  to  avoid  a  fast  on  Good  Friday,  as  well  as  to  keep  clear  of 
a  feast  on  Christmas.  Our  Puritan  forefathers  were  rigidly  jeal- 
ous of  the  slightest  concession  to  "  Popish  "  customs.  We  cannot 
suppress  a  smile  when  we  read  that,  not  content  with  denying  the 
title  of  "  Saint  "  to  the  apostles  and  ancient  Christian  fathers,  they 
even  refused  to  speak  it  when  applied  to  places.  '^  The  Island  of 
St.  Christophers  was  always  wrote  Christophers,  and  by  the  same 
rule  all  other  places  to  which  Saint  had  been  prefixed.  If  any 
exception  was  made,  an  answer  was  ready :  Abraham,  Isaac,  and 
Jacob  had  as  good  right  to  this  appellation  as  Peter,  James,  and 
John."  ''  Because,"  says  Lechford,  "  they  would  avoid  all 
memory  of  heathenish  and  idols'  names,"  they  designated  the 
days  of  the  week  and  the  months  of  the  year  by  numbers. 
March  was  the  first  month,  and  Sunday  or  Sabbath,  as  they 
styled  it,  the  first  day.  Morton,  who  complained  before  the 
Lords  Commissioners  of  the  Plantations  in  England  of  some  of 
the  Puritan  ways,  especially  marriages  by  magistrates,  says, 
**  The  people  of  New  England  hold  the  use  of  a  ring  in  marriage 
to  be  a  relique  of  popery,  a  diabolical  circle  for  the  Devell  to 
daunce  in." 

Whatever  cheer  was  lost,  from  conscientious  scruples,  at 
Christmas-tide,  was  made  up  on  Thanksgiving  day,  especially  in 
Connecticut.  From  its  first  celebration,  eighteen  years  after  the 
Mayflower  landing,  it  was  the  great  social  event  of  the  whole 
twelve  months.  The  growing  family  was  gathered,  from  far  and 
near,  and  clustering  round  the  paternal  hearthstone,  forgot  every 
trial  in  the  joys  of  kinship.  For  days  before  it  came,  the  plump- 
est fowls,  the  yellowest  pumpkins,  and  the  finest  of  vegetables 
were  marked  and  put  aside.      The  stalled  ox  and  the  fatted  calf 


94  COLONIAL    LIFE. 

were  killed.  When  the  glad  morning  arrived  a  happy  flutter 
pervaded  every  home.  Children's  feet  pattered  over  the  old  farm- 
house from  cellar  to  garret  and  made  the  rafters  echo  with  their 
noisy  glee.  ''  Sometimes  there  were  so  many  that  the  house 
would  scarcely  hold  them  ;  but  the  dear  old  grandmother,  whose 
memory  could  hardly  keep  the  constantly  lengthening  record  of 
their  births,  and  whose  eye,  dim  with  tears  and  age,  could  never 
see  which  child  to  love  the  best,  welcomed  each  with  a  trembling 
hand  and  overflowing  heart." — {Hollisters  Hist,  of  Conn.)  After 
the  public  service,  came  the  generous  dinner ;  and  then  all  gath- 
ered around  the  blazing  hickory  fire  to  listen  to  the  joys  and 
perils  of  the  year.  As  the  little  eyes  grew  sleepy  and  fair  heads 
began  to  nod  with  very  weariness  of  enjoyment,  the  old  family 
Bible  was  brought  out,  and  the  day  was  closed  with  a  fervent 
thanksgiving  for  mercies  past  and  supplications  for  the  future. 
Huskings,  apple-parings,  and  quiltings  were  also  favorite  occa- 
sions for  social  gathering.  Governor  Winthrop  prohibited  cards 
and  gaming-tables.  Dancing,  however,  was  not  entirely  for- 
bidden in  New  England  circles,  for  we  read  that  it  was  long  the 
custom  in  Connecticut  for  the  young  people  of  a  parish  to  cele- 
brate the  settlement  of  the  new  minister  by  an  ordination  ball. 
But  these  gradually  fell  into  disrepute,  and  were  at  last  sup- 
pressed by  public  sentiment. 

The  houses  of  most  of  the  first  settlers  were,  of  necessity, 
primitive — a  log  cabin,  often  of  a  single  room,  with  an  immense 
chimney  built  externally  at  its  side.  The  chinks  between  the 
logs  were  **  daubed,"  as  the  term  was,  with  a  mortar  of  clay 
and  straw.  Tall  grass,  gathered  along  the  beaches,  was  largely 
used  for  the  thatching  of  roofs.  There  were  not  wanting, 
however,  some  "  fair  and  stately  houses,"  for  which  the  New 
Haven  people  were  reproved  as  having  ''  laid  out  too  much  of 
their  stocks  and  estates"  in  them.  One  Isaac  Allerton,  especially, 
is  mentioned  as  having  ''  built  a  grand  house  on  the  creek,  with 
four  porches."  Governor  Coddington  built  a  brick  house  in 
Boston  before  he  went  thence  to  found  his  colony.  Rev.  Mr. 
Whitefield's  stone  house  in  Guilford,  Conn.,  has  endured  two  hun- 
dred and  thirty-seven  years,  and  is  the  oldest  house,  standing 
as  originally  built,  in  the  United  States,  north  of  Florida.  After 
thirty  years,  a  better  class  of  dwellings  began  to  be  more  com- 
mon. They  were  usually  made  of  heavy  oak  frames,  put  together 
in  the  most  solid  manner,  and  made  secure  at  night  by  massive 


NEW    ENGLAND    IN    THE    SEVENTEENTH    CENTURY. 


9i> 


y5s\s'>x>^'=*>^" 


WHITEFIELD  S   HOUSE,    GUILFORD,    CONNECTICUT. 


wooden  bars.  After  the  Indians  and  wild  beasts  had  been  driven 
back  by  increased  settlement,  bolts  and  bars  fell  into  disuse.  The 
foundations  of  the  huge 
old  stone  chimneys  were 
about  twelve  feet  square. 
Forest  logs  four  feet  in 
length  were  piled  upon 
the  ponderous  andirons, 
and  on  occasions  a  big 
"back -log"  was  drawn 
into  the  house  by  a  horse, 
and  then  rolled  into  the 
fireplace  with  hand-spikes. 
'*  Blazing  hearthstones  " 
had  then  a  meaning  at 
which,  in  our  days  of  fur- 
naces and  steam -pipes, 
we  can  only  guess.  No 
need  for  artificial  venti- 
lators when,  through  the 

crevices  of  the  building,  swept  such  keen,  brisk  currents  of  ain 
In  the  morning  the  farmer  and  his  family  sat  down  to  their  break- 
fast of  ''  bean  porridge,"  or  boiled  cornmeal  and  milk,  with  a 
healthy  appetite.  Beer,  cider,  or  cold  water  furnished  their  usual 
beverage ;  for  tea  and  coffee  were  unknown  in  New  England 
homes  in  the  seventeenth  century.  ''  Rye  and  Indian  "  was  the 
staff  of  life  on  which  they  leaned  the  most.  We  can  fancy  a  New 
England  table  of  those  early  days,  with  its  pewter  dishes,  bright- 
ened to  their  utmost  polish,  and,  in  the  wealthier  households,  here 
and  there  a  silver  beaker  or  tankard,  the  heirloom  of  the  family. 
The  dinner,  which  is  at  noon,  opens  with  a  large  Indian  pudding 
— ground  corn  sweetened  with  molasses — accompanied  by  an 
appropriate  sauce ;  next  come  boiled  beef  and  pork ;  then 
wild  game  with  potatoes,  followed  by  turnips  and  samp  or  succo- 
tash. Pumpkins  were  served  in  various  ways.  Supper  was  also 
a  substantial  meal,  though  generally  eaten  cold.  Baked  beans, 
baked  Indian  pudding,  and  newly-baked  rye  and  Indian  bread 
were  standard  dishes  for  Wednesday,  "  after  the  washing  and 
ironing  agonies  of  Monday  and  Tuesday  "  ;  salt  fish  on  Saturday, 
but  never  on  Friday,  the  "  Popish  "  fast-day  ;  and  boiled  Indian 
pudding,  with  roast  beef  for  those  who  could  get  it,  on  Sunday. 


96  COLONIAL    LIFE. 

Although,  from  the  scarcity  of  laborers,  the  proprietors  toiled 
often  in  the  same  fields  with  the  servants  they  had  brought  over 
from  Old  England,  it  must  not  be  supposed  that  there  were  no 
grades  or  degrees  in  society.  Titles,  however,  were  used  spar- 
ingly. Even  that  of  Reverend  does  not  seem  to  have  been  in  use 
for  at  least  a  half  century  after  the  Mayflower  touched  port — the 
minister  being  addressed  and  recorded  as  Mr.,  Pastor,  Teacher, 
or  Elder.  The  first  prefix,  in  fact,  indicated  much  more  in  old 
colonial  times  than  at  present.  Clergymen,  the  more  distin- 
guished members  of  the  General  Court,  highly-born  and  Univer- 
sity-bred men  alone,  were  honored  with  it.  Young  men,  of  what- 
ever rank,  were  seldom  granted  it.  To  be  called  Mr.,  or  to  have 
one's  name  recorded  by  the  secretary  with  that  prefix,  two  hun- 
dred years  ago,  was  a  pretty  certain  index  of  the  person's  rank  as 
respects  birth,  education,  and  moral  character.  As  for  the  com- 
mon people  above  the  grade  of  servants,  the  yeomen,  tenants, 
owners  of  small  estates,  and  even  many  deputies  to  the  General 
Court,  they  were  content  with  the  appellation  of  GoodmaUy  thei 
wives  receiving  the  corresponding  one  of  Goodwife.  The  title  ol 
Sir  was  often  given  to  undergraduates  at  a  university  or  college 
who  belonged  to  distinguished  families.  "  Hence  a  son  of  Gov- 
ernor Winthrop,  Mr.  Sherman,  or  Governor  Treat,  returning 
home  from  Yale  or  Cambridge  to  spend  a  vacation,  would  be 
greeted  by  his  old  companions  as  Sir  Winthrop,  Sir  Sherman,  or 
Sir  Treat."  The  Esquire  or  Squire  was  added  or  prefixed  to  de- 
scendants of  the  English  nobility,  sons  of  baronets,  knights,  etc. 
Such  titles  as  "  the  Honored,"  "  the  Worshipful,"  ''  the  Worshipful 
and  much  Honored,"  sometimes  occur  prefixed  to  such  names  as 
John  Winthrop,  or  Captain  John  AUyn.  Militar}^  titles  were 
especially  reverenced,  for  a  long  time  "  Captain  "  being  the  highest 
given. 

Training-day  was  a  great  event.  All  the  men  from  sixteen  to 
sixty  years  of  age  were  required  to  participate  in  the  general  drill. 
There  does  not  appear  to  have  been  any  uniform  dress,  and  no 
music  but  that  of  the  drum  to  inspirit  the  military  movements ; 
but  as  every  member  of  the  militia  practised  for  the  defence  of 
his  own  household,  we  can  well  imagine  that  there  was  lacking 
neither  zest  nor  zeal.  At  Plymouth,  by  law,  trainings  were 
"  always  begun  and  ended  with  prayer."  The  pikemen — the  tall- 
est and  strongest  in  the  colony — shouldered  their  pikes — ten  feet 
in  length,  besides  the  spear  at  the  end — with  religious  resolution ; 


NEW  ENGLAND  IN  THE  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY. 


97 


the  musketeers  firmly  grasped  their  clumsy  old  matchlocks ;  and 
the  young  Puritan  boys  looked  on  and  sighed  with  envy,  longing 
for  the  time  when  they,  too,  might  wear  helmet  and  breastplate, 
or  a  cotton-stufFed  coat  to  turn  the  Indian  arrows.  To  be  even 
a  corporal  in  the  militia  was  an  honor  which  required  an  extra 


H^>^•^^i^^-^ 


'Z;^^'^^^!^^^ 


TRAINING-DAY   IN   THE   OLDEN   TIME. 


amount  of  humility  to  bear  without  danger  to  the  soul.  John 
Hull,  a  prosperous  Boston  merchant,  chosen  to  that  office  in  1648, 
praises  God  for  giving  him  *' acceptance  and  favor  in  the  eyes 
of  His  people,  and,  as  a  fruit  thereof,  advancement  above  his 
deserts." 

How  would  those  ante-revolutionary  fathers  have  stared  at 
our  swift  express  trains,  our  lines  of  telegraphic  wires,  and  our 
pleasure-trips  from  Atlantic  to  Pacific  shore  !  Even  a  stage-coach 
was  to  them  a  luxury  yet  unknown.  The  fair  bride  accompanied 
her  husband,  gentleman  or  yeoman,  on  the  wedding  trip,  from  her 
father's  house  to  his  own  home,  wherever  it  might  be,  seated  on 
a  pillion  behind  him  on  his  horse.  She  expected  to  prove  a  ''  help 
meet  for  him,"  as  the  minister's  wedding  counsels  emphatically 
enjoined  ;  and  in  her  traveling  costume  of  possibly  a  plain  blue  and 
white  gown,  the  product  of  her  own  industry,  she  was  as  lovely 
in  her  sturdy  husband's  eye  as  the  daintiest  of  modern  brides  can 
ever  hope  to  be.  Indeed,  her  fresh,  glowing  cheeks,  and  plump, 
elastic  form  might  well  strike  envy  to  the  heart  of  many  a  modern 
7 


g8 


COLONIAL    LIFE. 


A  WEDDING  JOURNEY. 


belle.     Notwithstanding  the  general  simplicity  of  dress,  however, 
in  the  early  colonial  times,  great  public  days  called  out  many  an 
elegant  costume.     The  rich  articles  of  apparel  brought  over  by 
the  higher  class 
of    emigrants 
were      carefully 
preserved,      and 
lace  ruffles,  elab- 
orate    embroid- 
ery, silk  and  vel- 
vet    caps,     and 
gold    and    silver 
shoe     and    knee 
buckles,  made  a 

gathering  of  wealthy  colonists  a 
much  gayer  aflfair  than  a  black-coat- 
ed party  of  to-day.  Tightly -fitting 
small-clothes  and  high  hose,  a  coat 
extending  to  the  knees  and  fastened 
in  front  with  buttons,  clasps,  or  hooks 

and  eyes,  its  full  skirts  stiffened  with  buckram  and  the  habit  itself 
profusely  decorated  with  gold  lace,  a  plaited  stock  of  fine  linen 
cambric  with  a  large  silver  buckle  at  the  back  of  the  neck,  a 
broad-brimmed,  high-crowned,  sugar-loaf  hat,  beneath  which  fell 
the  long,  luxuriant  curls  of  the  bleached  or  powdered  wig,  and  a 
fashionable  red  cloak,  gave  to  the  dignified  New  England  father 
an  air  of  unquestionable  gentility.  The  skins  of  animals  were  much 
used  for  garments.  In  the  inventory  of  a  wealthy  Connecticut 
settler,  who  died  in  1649,  are  enumerated  "  two  raccoon  coats,  one 
wolf-skin  coat,  four  bear-skins,  three  moose."  Sheep  and  deer 
skins  did  like  service.  The  small-clothes  usually  fitted  quite 
closely  to  the  person,  and  "  those  men  were  thought  very  fortu- 
nate whose  forms  were  such  that  they  could  wear  small-clothes 
above  the  hips  without  appurtenances,  and  stockings  above  the 
calf  of  the  leg  without  garters."  The  well-to-do  matrons  carried 
their  long-trailed  gowns,  "  liberally  set  off  with  flounces  and  fur- 
belows," gracefully  over  one  arm,  or  had  them  "trolloped"  in 
loops  at  the  side,  or  let  them  sweep  their  full  course — "  from  half 
a  yard  to  a  yard  and  a  half" — along  the  floor.  If  in  this  they 
transgressed  the  statute  which  forbade  any  excess  ''  beyond  the 
necessary  end  of  apparell  for  covering,"  some  of  them  evidently 


NEW    ENGLAND    IN    THE    SEVENTEENTH    CENTURY.  99 

fulfilled  its  requirements  in  the  upper  cut  of  their  robes,  for  before 
the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century  we  hear  Boston  denounced  as 
a  "lost  town,"  because  of  its  "  strange  and  fantastick  fashions  and 
attire,  naked  backs  and  bare  breasts."  Not  to  be  behind  the 
sugar-loaf  appendages  which  brought  their  husbands  up  in  the 
world,  the  ladies  appeared  in  towering  head-dresses  of  crape, 
muslin,  or  lace.  The  distinctions  in  dress  between  the  higher 
and  lower  ranks  of  society  which  marked  the  old  country  were 
jealously  guarded  here.  But  American  air  from  the  first  seems 
to  have  been  charged  with  independence,  so  that  all  who  touched 
our  shores  felt  more  or  less  the  influence  of  the  electric  current. 
The  spirit  of  equal  rights,  born  in  the  untamed  forest  and  undis- 
turbed for  centuries,  refused  to  be  banished  its  native  haunts.  It 
was,  perhaps,  as  much  an  innocent  ambition  to  rise  in  society  as  a 
mere  love  of  finery  which  tempted  the  common  people  to  ape  the 
dress  and  condition  of  their  betters  in  station.  Before  a  score  of 
years  had  passed,  this  tendency  had  become  a  source  of  anxiety  to 
the  careful  colonial  legislators.  In  1640,  it  was  ordered  that  as 
"  divers  Persons  of  severall  Ranks  are  obsearved  still  to  exceede  " 
in  their  apparel,  "the  Constables  of  every  towne  within  there 
Libertyes  shall  observe  and  take  notice  of  any  particular  Person 
or  Persons  within  thier  several  Lymits,  and  all  such  as  they  judge 
to  exceede  thier  condition  and  Rank  therein,  they  shall  present 
and  warn  to  appear  at  the  particular  Court."  Among  the  pro- 
scribed articles  appear  "embroidered  and  needle -work  caps," 
"gold  and  silver  girdles,"  "immoderate  great  sleeves,'*  and 
"  slashed  apparel."  Rev.  Nathaniel  Ward,  author  of  the  "  Body 
of  Liberties,"  which  was  adopted  (1641)  as  the  code  of  laws  for 
Massachusetts,  and  substantially  for  Connecticut,  was  sorely  tried 
by  the  "  female  foppery  "  of  the  time.  In  a  book  entitled  "  The 
Simple  Cobler  of  Agawam,  in  America,  Willing  to  help  Mend 
his  Native  Country,  lamentably  tattered,  both  in  the  Upper- 
leather  and  the  Sole,"  etc.,  illustrative  of  colonial  life  and  man- 
ners, he  thus  breaks  forth :  "  I  honour  the  woman  that  can  honour 
herselfe  with  her  attire ;  a  good  text  alwayes  deserves  a  fair  mar- 
gent  ;  I  am  not  much  offended  if  I  see  a  trimme,  far  trimmer  than 
she  that  wears  it;  in  a  word,  whatever  Christianity  or  Civility 
will  allow,  I  can  afford  with  London  measure ;  but  when  I  heare  a 
nugiperous  gentle  dame  inquire  what  dresse  the  Queen  is  in  this 
week ;  what  the  nudiustertian  fashion  of  the  Court ;  I  meane  the 
very  newest ;  with  cgge  to  be  in  it  in  all  haste,  whatever  it  be :  I 


lOO  COLONIAL    LIFE. 

look  at  her  as  the  very  gizzard  of  a  trifle,  the  product  of  a  quarter 
of  a  cipher,  the  epitome  of  nothing,  fitter  to  be  kickt,  if  she  were 
of  a  kickable  substance,  than  either  honour'd  or  humour'd.  To 
speak  moderately,  I  truly  confesse,  it  is  beyond  the  ken  of  my 
understanding  to  conceive  how  those  women  should  have  any 
true  grace,  or  valuable  vertue,  that  have  so  little  wit  as  to  dis- 
figure themselves  with  such  exotick  garbes,  as  not  only  dismantles 
their  native  lovely  lustre,  but  transclouts  them  into  gant  bargeese 
ill-shapen — shotten — shell-fish,  Egyptian  Hyeroglyphicks,  or  at 
the  best  into  French  flurts  of  the  pastery,  which  a  proper  English 
woman  should  scorne  with  her  heels ;  it  is  no  marvell  they  weare 
drailes  on  the  hinder  part  of  their  heads,  having  nothing  as  it 
seems  in  the  fore  part,  but  a  few  squirrils*  brains  to  help  them 
frisk  from  one  ill-favored  fashion  to  another."  The  evil  seems 
not  to  have  been  remedied  in  1676,  for  we  find  that  still  the 
^'rising  Generation"  was  ''in  danger  to  be  corrupted"  by  an  ex- 
cess in  apparel,  which  is  *'  testified  against  in  God's  holy  Word," 
and  it  was  therefore  ordered  that ''  what  person  soever  shall  wear 
Gold  or  Silver  Lace,  or  Gold  or  Silver  Buttons,  Silk  Ribbons,  or 
other  costly  superfluous  trimmings,  or  any  bone  Lace  above  three 
shillings  per  yard,  or  Silk  Scarfes,"  should  pay  equal  taxes  with 
those  whose  rank  or  fortune  allowed  such  privileges.  The  families 
of  public  and  military  officers,  and  "  such  whose  quality  and  estate 
have  been  above  the  ordinary  degree,  though  now  decayed,"  were 
excepted  from  this  decree.  These  good  old  fathers  even  went 
further  in  their  restrictions :  ''  It  is  further  ordered  that  all  such 
persons  as  shall  for  the  future  make,  or  weave,  or  buy  any  apparell 
exceeding  the  quality  and  condition  of  their  persons  and  Estates,  or 
that  is  apparently  beyond  the  necessary  end  of  apparell  for  cover- 
ing or  comeliness,  either  of  these  to  be  Judged  by  the  Grand  Jury 
and  County  Court  where  such  presentments  are  made,  shall  for- 
feit for  every  such  offence  ten  shillings." 

These  sumptuary  laws  were  not  a  dead  letter,  for  we  hear  that 
Alice  Flynt's  ''  silk  hood  "  was  cited  before  the  court,  and  she  re- 
quired to  prove  that  she  was  entitled  to  wear  it  by  her  property 
of  two  hundred  pounds;  and  of  the  "great  boots"  of  Jonas  Fair- 
banks, out  of  the  shadow  of  whose  guilt  he  managed  to  escape. 

The  price  of  wages  was  also  regulated  by  law,  and  it  was  settled 
(1641)  that  "  carpenters,  plowrights,  wheelrights,  masons,  joyners, 
smithes,  and  coopers  shall  not  take  above  twenty  pence  for  a  day's 
work  from  the   loth  of  March  to  the  loth  of  October,  and  not 


THE    DUTCH    IN    NEW    YORK.  lOI 

above  eighteen  pence  a  day  for  the  other  part  of  the  yere,  and  to 
work  ten  hours  in  the  day  in  the  summer  tyme,  besides  that  which 
is  spent  in  eating  or  sleeping,  and  six  hours  in  the  winter."  The 
court,  however,  soon  ''  found  by  experience  that  it  would  not  avail 
by  any  law  to  redress  the  excessive  rates  of  laborers'  and  work- 
men's wages,  etc. ;  for,  being  restrained,  they  would  either  remove 
to  other  places  where  they  might  have  more,  or  else,  being  able 
to  live  by  planting  and  other  employments  of  their  own,  they 
would  not  be  hired  at  all." — (Winthrop^ 


THE    DUTCH    IN    JNEW    YORK. 

The  followers  of  Hendrick  Hudson  were  quite  a  different 
people.  To  the  bustling  energy  and  severe  religious  laws  of 
New  England  they  opposed  an  easy  good  nature  and  impertur- 
bable content.  Only  in  the  painfulness  of  extreme  neatness  did 
they  resemble  and  even  surpass  their  northern  and  eastern 
neighbors.  Let  us  recall  a  comfortable  Dutch  mansion  of  the 
seventeenth  century.  Its  gable-end  of  small  black  and  yellow 
Dutch  bricks,  receding  in  regular  steps  from  the  base  of  the  roof 
to  the  summit,  and  there  crowned  with  a  "  fierce  little  weather- 
cock," stood  squarel)^  to  the  street.  Not  ashamed  to  let  its  age 
be  known,  it  was  proclaimed  in  straggling  iron  figures  upon  the 
front.  The  inevitable  porch,  elevated  by  a  few  steps,  was  covered 
by  a  wooden  awning,  or  perhaps  a  lattice-work,  over  which 
luxuriantly  drooped  and  wandered  a  wild  grape-vine.  Multi- 
tudes of  wrens  flitted  in  and  out  this  sylvan  nook,  and,  says  a 
Scotch  lady,  reporting  Albany  life  at  this  period,  "  while  break- 
fasting or  drinking  tea  in  the  airy  portico,  birds  were  constantly 
gliding  over  the  table  with  a  butterfly,  grasshopper,  or  cicada  in 
their  bills  to  feed  their  young,  who  were  chirping  above."  These 
porches  were  the  universal  rendezvous  in  the  after-part  of  the 
day.  The  old  people  clustered  together  in  one,  the  younger  in 
another,  and  the  children  sat  placidly  on  the  steps  and  ate  their 
bread  and  milk  before  retiring  ;  while  the  beaux  sauntered  along 
and  cast  shy  glances  toward  their  favorite  maidens,  or  accepted 
an  invitation  to  join  the  little  group.  The  gutters  on  the  roofs 
often  stretched  almost  to  the  middle  of  the  street,  to  the  great 


I02 


COLONIAL    LIFE. 


annoyance  of  passers-by.  The  front  door,  opened  only  on  rare 
occasions,  was  ornamented  with  a  gorgeous  brass  knocker, 
wrought  in  a  curious  animal  device.  This  was  the  pride  of  the 
housewife,  and  was  burnished  daily  with  intense  solicitude.  A 
wide  passage  extended  through  the  house,  with  doors  at  either 
end  ;  this,  furnished  with  chairs  and  having  always  a  scrupulously 


DUTCH   MANSION   AND   COTTAGE   IN   NEW  AMSTERDAM. 


white  sanded  floor,  served  for  a  summer  parlor.  Aside  from  this 
reception-hall,  there  were  but  two  large  rooms  on  the  first  floor, 
with  light,  ample  closets  adjoining.  On  account  of  the  difficulty 
of  warming  these,  and  to  save  the  best  furniture  from  the  dust 
and  smoke  of  huge  wood  fires,  the  family  usually  retired  in  the 
winter  to  a  small  addition  in  the  rear,  consisting  of  one  or  two 
rooms  above  and  below.  This  was  built  of  wood,  as  indeed  was 
ordinarily  the  whole  house,  except  the  pretentious  gable  front. 
While  the  Connecticut  mistress  spun,  wove,  and  stored  her 
household  linens  in  crowded  chests,  the  Dutch  matron  scrubbed 
and  scoured  her  polished  floor  and  woodwork.  Dirt  in  no  form 
could  be  endured  bv  her;   and  dear  as  water  was  in  the  city. 


MANNERS  AND  CUSTOMS  OF  THE  DUTCH.         IO3 

where  it  was  generally  sold  at  a  penny  a  gallon,  it  was  used 
unsparingly.  Fine  furniture  was  the  good  housewife's  weakness. 
Ponderous  tables,  drawers  resplendent  with  brass  ornaments, 
quaint  comer  cupboards,  beds  and  bedsteads,  and  even  the 
frying-pan  and  immense  Dutch  oven  had  her  most  loving  regards. 
**  The  mirrors,  the  paintings,  the  china,  but,  above  all,  the  state 
bed,"  records  the  author  above  mentioned,  *'  were  considered  as 
the  family  seraphim,  secretly  worshipped  and  only  exhibited  on 
very  rare  occasions."  "  The  grand  parlor,"  says  Washington 
Irving,  "  was  the  sanctum  sanctorum  where  the  passion  for 
cleaning  was  indulged  without  control.  In  this  sacred  apartment 
no  one  was  permitted  to  enter  excepting  the  mistress  and  her 
confidential  maid,  who  visited  it  once  a  week  for  the  purpose  of 
giving  it  a  thorough  cleaning  and  putting  things  to  rights — 
always  taking  the  precaution  of  leaving  their  shoes  at  the  door 
and  entering  devoutly  on  their  stocking  feet.  After  scrubbing 
the  floor,  sprinkling  it  with  fine  white  sand,  which  was  curiously 
stroked  into  angles,  and  curves,  and  rhomboids  with  a  broom — 
after  washing  the  windows,  rubbing  and  polishing  the  furniture, 
and  putting  a  new  bunch  of  evergreens  in  the  fireplace,  the  win- 
dow-shutters were  again  closed  to  keep  out  the  flies,  and  the 
room  carefully  locked  up  until  the  revolution  of  time  brought 
round  the  weekly  cleaning  day." 

In  the  early  spring  the  good  vrow  donned  her  green  calash, 
took  her  rake  over  her  shoulder,  and  with  her  little  painted 
basket  of  seeds  went  out  to  make  the  family  garden.  Myn- 
heer was  much  too  clumsy  to  be  trusted  in  the  delicate  care  of 
salads  and  sweet  herbs,  celery  or  asparagus ;  cabbages  and 
potatoes  and  such  like  he  cultivated  in  the  field  between  the  rows 
of  Indian  com,  but  into  the  little  spot  sacred  to  the  tenderer 
plants,  no  foot  of  man  intruded,  after  it  was  dug  in  spring.  The 
stakes  to  the  simple  deal  fence,  which  enclosed  the  garden  and 
the  orchard,  were  oddly  ornamented  with  skeleton  heads  of 
cattle  and  of  horses ;  the  jaws  being  fixed  on  the  pole,  with  the 
skull  uppermost.  Samson's  riddle  here  received  a  daily  exempli- 
fication, for  the  birds  built  their  nests  therein  and  sent  forth 
broods  of  young  ones  from  the  ghastly  orifice.  In  clearing  the 
way  for  the  first  establishment,  a  tree  was  always  left  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  back  yard  for  the  sole  benefit  of  these  little  songsters  ; 
this  tree  being  pollarded  at  midsummer  when  full  of  sap,  every 
excised  branch  left  a  little  hollow,  and  every  hollow  was  the  home 


I04  COLONIAL    LIFE. 

of  a  bird.  It  was  also  a  custom  to  leave  an  ancient  tree,  or  to 
plant  one  of  some  kind  directly  in  front  of  the  doorway,  which 
the  household  regarded  with  great  veneration. 

Every  family  had  a  cow,  fed  through  the  day  in  a  common 
pasture  at  the  end  of  the  town.  They  came  at  night  and  went  in 
the  morning  of  their  own  accord,  like  proper  adjuncts  to  sedate 
and  systematic  households,  and  their  tinkling  bells  never  failed  to 
warn  of  their  approach  along  the  grassy  streets  when  the  proper 
hour  for  milking  arrived.  Being  allowed,  however,  to  roam  the 
town  from  evening  to  morning  milking,  they,  by  no  means, 
improved  the  neatness  of  the  highways,  which  presented  a 
strange  contrast  in  that  respect  to  the  immaculate  interiors  of  the 
houses.  On  dark  nights  housekeepers  were  required  to  keep 
lights — tallow  candles — in  their  front  windows,  and  ''every 
seventh  householder  **  was  obliged  to  "  hang  out  a  lanthorn  and 
candle  on  a  pole." 

The  happy  burghers  breakfasted  at  dawn,  dined  at  eleven,  and 
retired  at  sunset.  No  change  was  ever  made  in  the  arrangements 
for  the  family  dinner  in  favor  of  a  guest,  and  the  unexpected 
visitor  was  received  at  that  meal  with  unmistakable  signs  of 
coldness  and  disfavor.  A  company  tea,  however,  was  a  "  perfect 
regale,"  and  cakes,  sweetmeats,  cold  pastry,  and  fruit  in  abundance 
garnished  a  table  which  also  often  tempted  by  a  fine  array  of 
roasted  game  or  poultry,  or,  in  its  season,  shell-fish.  Clams — 
called  clippers — was  a  favorite  food.  The  tea  was  served  from  a 
large  porcelain  tea-pot,  "  ornamented  with  paintings  of  fat  little 
shepherds  and  shepherdesses  tending  pigs,  with  boats  sailing  in 
the  air  and  houses  built  in  the  clouds  " — a  cherished  souvenir  of 
Delft  in  the  dear  mother-country.  The  decoction  was  taken 
without  milk,  but  a  lump  of  sugar  was  placed  beside  each  cup, 
the  company  alternately  nibbling  and  sipping  according  to  indi- 
vidual relish.  Another  custom  was  to  suspend  an  immense  lump 
of  sugar  by  a  string  from  the  ceiling  directly  overhead,  so  that  it 
could  be  swung  from  mouth  to  mouth  and  prevent  unnecessary 
waste.  Irving  has  so  inimitably  portrayed  a  '*  fashionable  tea- 
party  "  of  those  days  that  it  were  a  pity  not  to  recall  it  here. 
''  These  fashionable  parties  were  generally  confined  to  the  higher 
classes,  that  is  to  say,  those  who  kept  their  own  cows  and  drove 
their  own  wagons.  The  company  commonly  assembled  at  three 
o'clock,  and  went  away  about  six,  unless  it  was  winter  time,  when 
the  fashionable  hours  were  a  little  earlier,  that  the  ladies  might 


MANNERS    AND    CUSTOMS    OF    THE    DUTCH.  lOS 

get  home  before  dark.  The  tea-table  was  crowned  with  a  nuge 
earthen  dish,  well  stored  with  slices  of  fat  pork,  fried  brown,  cut 
up  into  morsels,  and  swimming  in  gravy.  Sometimes  the  table 
was  graced  with  immense  apple  pies,  or  saucers  full  of  preserved 
peaches  and  pears ;  but  it  was  always  sure  to  boast  an  enormous 
dish  of  doughnuts  or  olykoeks.  At  these  decorous  gatherings  the 
young  ladies  seated  themselves  demurely  in  their  rush-bottomed 
chairs,  and  knit  their  own  woolen  stockings  ;  nor  ever  opened 
their  lips  except  to  say.  Yah  Mynheer^  or,  Yah  ya  Vrouw,  to  any 
question  that  was  asked  them.  As  to  the  gentlemen,  each  of 
them  tranquilly  smoked  his  pipe,  and  seemed  lost  in  contempla- 
tion of  the  blue  and  white  tiles  with  which  the  fireplaces  were 
decorated ;  wherein  sundry  passages  of  Scripture  were  piously 
portrayed.  Tobit  and  his  dog  figured  to  great  advantage ; 
Haman  swung  conspicuously  on  his  gibbet,  and  Jonah  appeared 
most  manfully  bouncing  out  of  the  whale."  A  silent  grace  before 
meat  was  the  usual  habit  with  the  Hollanders.  Mush  or  bread 
with  buttermilk,  *'  and  if  to  that  they  added  sugar,  it  was  thought 
delicious,"  constituted  the  standard  family  supper.  On  occasion 
of  Dutch  dances,  a  pot  of  chocolate  and  some  bread  were  deemed 
sufficient  refreshment.  New  Year's  Day  was  the  one  of  all  the 
year  for  gayety  and  festivity.  Our  delightful  fashion  of  New 
Year's  calls  is  an  inheritance  from  the  Hollanders,  who  were  also 
accustomed  to  exchange  presents  and  other  complimentary  tokens 
on  that  day.  General  Washington,  speaking  of  this  usage,  once 
remarked :  "  New  York  will  in  process  of  years  gradually  change 
its  ancient  customs  and  manners ;  but  whatever  changes  take 
place,  never  forget  the  cordial  observance  of  New  Year's  Day." 
To  the  Dutch  also  we  owe  our  Christmas  visit  of  Santa  Claus, 
colored  eggs  at  Easter,  doughnuts,  crullers,  and  New  Year's 
cookies. 

A  Dutch  belle  of  the  seventeenth  century  wore  her  hair 
smoothly  plastered  back  with  suet  tallow,  under  a  quilted  cap. 
Her  gayly-striped  linsey-woolsey  petticoat — or  rather  petticoats, 
for  her  fortune  was  estimated  by  the  number  of  garments  she 
wore — came  a  little  below  the  knee,  affording  an  admirable  view 
of  her  blue  worsted  stockings,  adorned  with  bright  red  clocks, 
and  her  high-heeled,  silver-buckled  leather  shoes.  From  her 
girdle  depended  her  huge  patch-work  pocket,  her  scissors  and 
her  pincushion,  potent  charms,  or  possibly  coquetries  of  the 
times,  which  did  not  fail  to  touch  the  tender  part  of  Mj-nheer's 


io6 


COLONIAL    LIFE. 


nature  when,  between  his  puffs,  he  settled  the  question  of  a  com- 
petent vrow.  The  work-basket  always  accompanied  her  on  picnic 
excursions,  and  while  ''  the  boys "  fished  or  hunted  to  procure 

game  for  the  coming 
supper,  the  girls  con- 
soled themselves  for 
their  absence  in  knit- 
ting or  sewing.  The 
walls  of  the  "  spare 
room "  in  a  Dutch 
home  were  not  in- 
frequently covered 
with  extra  homespun 
garments,  a  rather 
unique  decoration, 
but  an  honest  certifi- 
cate of  the  industry, 
and  considered  as  a 
sign  of  the  wealth, 
of  the  household. 
As  to  Mynheer  him- 
self, the  number  of 
his  breeches  or  galli- 
gaskins rivalled  those 
of  his  fair  one's  petti- 
coats, and  unneces- 
sarily heightened  the 
proportions  of  his  rotund  figure.  His  linsey-woolsey  coat — doubly 
precious  when  spun  and  woven  by  the  fair  maid  of  his  choice,  as 
often  it  was,  for  love-gifts  were  substantial  then — was  profusely 
adorned  with  large  brass  buttons  ;  enormous  copper  buckles  set 
off  his  unquestionably  broad  understanding ;  a  low-crowned,  wide- 
brimmed  hat  shadowed  his  phlegmatic  countenance,  and  his  hair 
dangled  down  his  back  in  a  prodigious  queue  of  eelskin.  His  pipe 
was  an  indispensable  adjunct  to  his  mouth. 

The  young  Albanian  had  a  custom  of  proving  his  worth  to  his 
lady-love  by  pushing,  with  a  cargo  of  blankets,  guns,  beads,  and 
various  articles  packed  in  a  light  canoe,  into  the  deep  forest, 
attended  only  by  a  faithful  slave,  and  establishing  trade  with  the 
Indians.  If  he  succeeded  well,  he  enlarged  his  business  and 
followed  it  through  life,  or  disposing  of  his  schooner — which  it 


DUTCH   COURTSHIP. 


MAl^NERS   AND    CUSTOMS    OF   THE   DUTCH.  107 

was  his  pride  to  own  before  he  settled  down — embraced  less 
exciting  mercantile  or  agricultural  pursuits.  The  usual  dower  of 
a  daughter  was  a  well-brought-up  female  slave  and  the  furniture 
of  the  best  bed-chamber.  There  were  two  standard  amusements 
among  young  people — sliding  down  hill  in  winter,  and  pillaging 
pigs  and  turkeys  from  a  neighbor's  garden.  This  was  con- 
sidered frolic,  not  theft,  though  the  owner — if  he  failed  to  over- 
take and  chastise  the  robbers,  which  was  his  token  of  gallantry — 
never  saw  his  property  again.  The  married  man  shut  himself 
out  from  these  sports,  as  unbefitting  his  dignity,  but  the  bride- 
groom was  sure  to  receive  such  a  visit  from  some  of  his  old  com- 
panions. A  story  is  told  of  two  parties  out  one  night  on  the 
same  business.  Both  attacked  the  same  place.  The  chief  of  the 
second  party,  finding  the  game  gone,  suspected  the  other,  and 
followed  it  to  an  inn,  where  he  found  the  coveted  pig  roasting 
before  the  fire.  Sending  the  maid  out  on  a  trivial  excuse,  he  cut 
the  string  by  which  the  pig  was  suspended,  and  laying  it  in  the 
dripping-pan,  carried  it  swiftly  through  the  dark  and  quiet  streets 
to  another  inn,  where  his  companions  were  awaiting  him.  The 
first  party,  not  to  be  outdone,  and  rightly  guessing  the  offenders, 
sent  a  messenger  to  the  other  inn,  where  supper  and  "  the  pig  " 
had  just  been  served.  Throwing  a  huge  parcel  of  shavings 
before  the  door,  he  touched  a  match  to  them,  and  crying  **  fire  " 
with  all  his  might,  soon  drew  every  occupant  to  the  front.  Steal- 
ing in  the  back  way,  he  secured  the  traveled  treasure,  and  rushing 
back  to  his  friends,  they  feasted  on  the  spoils.  Strawberries 
abounded  in  June,  when  "  the  country  people,  perceiving  that  the 
fields  and  woods  were  dyed  red,  would  go  forth  with  wine, 
cream,  and  sugar  ;  and  instead  of  a  coat  of  mail,  every  one  takes 
up  a  female  behind  him  on  horseback,  and  starting  for  the  fields, 
set  to  picking  the  fruit  and  regaling  themselves  as  long  as  they 
list." 

Our  Dutch  friends  seem  to  have  regarded  offences  of  the 
tongue  with  as  little  favor  as  the  Puritans,  though  their  punish- 
ments were  milder.  In  1638,  one  Hendrick  Jansen  is  made  to 
stand  at  the  fort  door  at  the  ringing  of  the  bell,  and  ask  the  gov- 
ernor's pardon  for  having  **  scandalized  "  him.  This  same  Hen- 
drick Jansen,  evidently  an  over-officious  reformer,  preferred  a 
charge  against  the  minister's  wife  for  having  **  drawn  up  her  petti- 
coat a  little  way  in  the  street."  A  woman  who  had  the  temerity  to 
slander  the  minister  was  obliged  also  to  appear  at  the  fort  door. 


io8 


COLONIAL    LIFE. 


and  publicly  confess  that  "  she  knew  he  was  honest  and  pious,  and 
that  she  lied  falsely."  The  "  wooden  horse  "  was  a  peculiar  pun- 
ishment. It  had  a  very  sharp  back,  upon  which  the  offender  was 
tightly  strapped,  or  had  weights  tied  to  his  feet,  the  horse  being 
first  put  into  the  cart  body.  A  woman  was  the  first  who  received 
this  penalty,  and  the  instrument  was  named  after  her,  "  the  horse 
of  Mary  Price."  Culprits  were  sometimes  led  about  the  town 
fastened  to  the  back  of  the  cart,  being  whipped  as  they  went. 
These  customs  continued  as  late  as  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  as  witness  an  advertisement  from  the  New  York 
Gazette  of  March,  1750:  '*  The  Public  Whipper  being  lately  dead, 
twenty  pounds  a  year  is  offered  to  a  successor  at  the  mayor's 
office."  This,  with  other  short  items,  is  printed  on  the  margin 
of  the  sheet,  in  a  transverse  direction  to  the  column  matter, 
another  instance  of  the  economy  of  the  early  New  Yorkers. 

The  Dutch  dominies  were  paid  sometimes  in  beaver-skins — 
the  dominie  of  Albany  at  one  time  received  one  hundred  and  fifty 
— and  sometimes  in  wampum  or  seawant,  a  kind  of  Indian  money 

consisting  of  strings  of  clam- 
shells. Its  current  value  was 
six  beads  of  the  white  or  three 
of  the  black  for  an  English 
penny.  In  1641,  the  New  York 
City  Council  complains  that  "  a 
great  deal  of  bad  seawant,  nasty, 
rough  things,  imported  from 
other  places,"  was  in  circula- 
tion, while  "  the  good,  splendid 
Manhattan  seawant  was  out  of 
sight  or  exported,  which  must 
cause  the  ruin  of  the  country T 
The  city  schoolmasters  of  those 
days  acted  also  as  clerks,  chor- 
isters, and  visitors  of  the  sick. 
The  names  of  those  old  Dutch 
dignitaries  sound  strangely 
enough  to  modern  ears.  There 
were  the  hoofd-schout  (high 
sheriff),  the  wees-meester  (guardian  of  orphans),  the  roy-meester 
(regulator  of  fences),  the  eyck-meester  (weigh-master),  the  geheim- 
schry  ver  (recorder  of  secrets),  and  the  groot  burgerrecht,  or  great 


YE  DUTCH   SCHOOLMASTER. 


MANNERS    AND    CUSTOMS    OF    THE    DUTCH.  I09 

citizen,  in  opposition  to  the  klein  burgerrecht,  or  small  citizen. 
Only  the  "  great  citizens,"  of  whom  there  were  not  more  than  a 
score,  could  hold  offices,  and  in  1668,  the  number  being  so  small, 
and  many  inconveniences  arising  in  consequence,  the  distinction 
was  abolished. 

We  have  not  particularized  the  family  life  of  that  exceptional 
class,  the  ''  patroons,"  who  occupied  a  position  not  unlike  that  of 
an  English  baron  with  feudal  retainers.  Their  social  customs 
were  simply  those  of  the  best  European  society  of  the  day. 
They,  themselves,  were  regarded  by  their  numerous  tenants  with 
a  certain  respect  and  reverence  which  has  had  no  counterpart 
since  the  Revolution.  Holmes  characterizes  this  feeling  and  the 
former  accepted  distinction  of  ranks,  in  his  poem  of  "  Agnes," 
where  a  gentlemen  of  the  olden  time  went  out  to  drive, 

"  And  all  the  midland  counties  through, 

The  ploughman  stopped  to  gaze, 
Where'er  his  chariot  swept  in  view 

Behind  the  shining  bays, 
With  mute  obeisance,  grave  and  slow, 

Repaid  by  bow  polite — 
Ju?r  such  the  way  with  high  and  low^ 

Till  after  Concord! s  fight*' 

These  lords  of  the  manor  lived  in  a  princely  way  on  their  large 
estates,  which  passed  from  father  to  son  for  more  than  a  century. 
When  the  Revolution  broke  out,  many  of  them  declared  for  the 
king,  and  thus  their  lands  became  confiscated  and  their  names 
ceased  to  exist  in  the  ruling  offices  of  the  country.  Few,  indeed, 
in  our  democratic  day,  even  know  of  the  existence  in  those  times 
of  estates  whose  tenants  were  numbered  by  thousands,  the  gather- 
ing together  of  which  was  like  that  of  the  Scottish  clans.  When 
death  entered  the  family  of  the  proprietor,  they  all  came  to  do 
honor  at  the  funeral,  "  and  many  were  the  hogsheads  of  good  ale 
which  were  broached  for  them."  When  Philip  Livingston,  of 
Livingston  Manor,  died,  at  both  town  and  country  house  "  a  pipe 
of  wine  was  spiced  for  the  occasion,  and  to  each  of  the  eight 
bearers  a  pair  of  gloves,  mourning  ring,  scarf,  handkerchief,  and 
silver  monkey  spoon  were  given."  The  latter  was  so  named  from 
its  handle,  whose  extremity  was  in  the  form  of  an  ape.  Every 
tenant  also  received  a  pair  of  black  gloves  and  a  handkerchief. 
The  whole  expense  amounted  to  five  hundred  pounds.  In  later 
times  (1753)  Governor  William  Livingston  wrote  against  extrava- 


no  COLONIAL    LIFE. 

gance  in  funerals  ;  and  his  wife,  it  is  said,  was  the  first  one  who 
ventured,  as  an  example  of  economy,  to  substitute  linen  scarfs 
for  the  former  silk  ones. 

In  August,  1673,  a  Dutch  fleet  recaptured  New  York  from  the 
British,  and  held  it  one  year,  calling  it  meantime  New  Orange^ 
after  the  Prince  of  Orange.  During  this  time  strict  military  dis- 
cipline prevailed.  "  The  Dutch  mayor,  at  the  head  of  the  city 
militia,  held  his  daily  parade  before  the  City  Hall  (Stadt  Huys), 
then  at  Coenties  Slip  ;  and  every  evening  at  sunset  he  received 
from  the  principal  guard  of  the  fort,  called  hoofd-wagt^  the  keys  of 
the  city,  and  thereupon  proceeded  with  a  guard  of  six  to  lock  the 
city  gates  ;  then  to  place  a  burger-wagt  (citizen  guard)  as  a  night- 
watch  at  various  places.  The  same  mayors  went  the  rounds  at 
sunrise  to  open  the  gates  and  to  restore  the  keys  to  the  officer  of 
the  fort."  The  comfort-loving  burgher  who  accepted  the  posi- 
tion of  mayor  in  those  days  paid  dearly  for  the  honor  in  the  loss 
of  his  leisurely  fireside  smoke  before  breakfast  in  the  morning. 
Mrs.  Sigourney  has  written  some  lines  upon  this  period,  which,  as 
a  picture  of  the  times,  we  copy  from  Watson's  "  Annals  of  New 
York,"  to  which  book,  and  those  equally  rich  and  spicy  volumes 
entitled  "  Annals  of  Philadelphia,"  by  the  same  author,  we  are  in- 
debted for  many  of  the  curious  facts  related  in  this  chapter.  The 
lines  run  thus : 


Lo,  with  the  sun,  came  forth  a  goodly  train, 
The  portly  mayor  with  his  full  guard  of  state. 

Hath  aught  of  evil  vexed  their  fair  domain. 
That  thus  its  limits  they  perambulate. 

With  heavy,  measured  steps,  and  brows  of  care. 

Counting  its  scattered  roofs  with  fixed,  portentous  stare? 

Behold  the  keys  with  solemn  pomp  restored 
To  one  in  warlike  costume  stoutly  braced. 

He,  of  yon  fort,  the  undisputed  lord. 

Deep  lines  of  thought  are  on  his  forehead  traced, 

As  though  of  Babylon  the  proud  command, 

Or  hundred-gated  Thebes  were  yielded  to  his  hand. 

See,  here  and  there,  the  buildings  cluster  round. 
All,  to  the  street,  their  cumbrous  gables  stretching, 

With  square-clipt  trees  and  snug  enclosures  bound 
(A  most  uncouth  material  for  sketching) — 

Each  with  its  stoop,  from  whose  sequestered  shade 

The  Dutchman's  evening  pipe  in  cloudy  volumes  played. 


MANNERS    AND    CUSTOMS    IN    THE    SOUTH.  Ill 

Oh,  had  those  ancient  dames  of  high  renown — 

The  Knickerbockers  and  the  Rapaeljes, 
With  high-heeled  shoes  and  ample  ten-fold  gown. 

Green  worsted  hose,  with  clocks  of  crimson  rays- 
Had  they,  thro'  time's  dim  vista,  stretched  their  gaze. 
Spying  their  daughters  fair  in  these  degenerate  days, 

With  muslin  robe  and  satin  slipper  white, 

Thronging  to  routs,  with  Fahrenheit  at  zero, 
Their  sylphlike  form,  for  household  toils  too  slight. 

But  yet  to  winter's  piercing  blast  a  hero. 
Here  had  they  marvelled  at  such  wondrous  lot, 
And  scrubbing  brush  and  broom  for  one  short  space  forgot. 

Yet  deem  them  not  for  ridicule  a  theme, 

Those  worthy  burghers  with  their  spouses  kind* 
Scorning  of  heartless  pomp,  the  gilded  dream, 

To  deeds  of  peaceful  industry  inclined. 
In  hospitality  sincere  and  grave. 
Inflexible  in  truth,  in  simple  virtue  brave. 

Hail,  mighty  city !  high  must  be  his  fame 
Who  round  thy  bounds,  at  sunrise,  now  should  walk ; 

Still  wert  thou  lovely,  whatsoe'er  thy  name, 
New  Amsterdam,  New  Orange,  or  New  York, 

Whether  in  cradle  sleep  on  sea-weed  laid. 

Or  on  thine  island  throne,  in  queenly  power  arrayed. 


EAFJLY    COLONIAL   LIfE    IN   THE   gOUTH. 

The  manners  of  the  Southerners  on  their  plantations  were 
quite  distinct  from  those  of  either  Puritan  or  Dutch.  The  first 
few  years  in  all  new  colonies  have  necessarily  a  certain  degree  of 
sameness.  An  enforced  rude  state  of  living  engenders  rude  and 
peculiar  laws.  Thus  we  find  decrees  in  Virginia  which  strongly 
smack  of  New  England  quaintness.  The  Established  Church  of 
England  was  guarded  with  as  jealous  strictness  in  the  South  as 
were  Puritan  principles  in  the  North;  the  first  laws  of  both 
colonies  pertaining  to  religious  observances.  In  Virginia,  accord- 
ing to  the  regulations  of  1632,  a  room  or  house  in  every  planta- 
tion was  to  be  set  apart  for,  and  consecrated  to,  worship.  Ab- 
sence from  service  "  without  allowable  excuse  **  was  punished  with 
a  fine  of  a  pound  of  tobacco,  and  if  the  absence  continued  a  month, 
with  fifty  pounds.     There  are  rumors  of  other  penalties  in  earlier 


112  COLONIAL    LIFE. 

times,  such  as  being  tied  neck  and  heels  for  a  night,  and  serving  as 
a  slave  to  the  colony — a  week  for  the  first  offence,  a  month  for  the 
second,  and  a  year  and  a  day  for  the  third.  Certain  culprits  also 
are  mentioned  as  being  made  to  stand  in  church,  wrapped  in  a 
snowy  sheet  and  holding  a  white  wand,  like  guilty  ghosts  or 
transfixed  lepers ;  or  as  having  the  initial  letter  of  their  crime 
fastened  in  a  great,  bold  capital  upon  their  back  or  breast,  as  in 
New  England. 

Ministers  were  restrained  from  a  neglect  of  their  duties  by  a  fine 
of  half  their  salary  if  they  absented  themselves  for  two  months ; 
losing  the  entire  salary  and  the  cure  itself  for  an  absence  of  double 
that  length  of  time.  The  salary  aforesaid  consisted  of  ten  pounds 
of  tobacco  and  a  bushel  of  corn — "the  first-gathered  and  best" — 
from  every  male  over  sixteen,  with  marriage,  christening  and 
burial  fees.  In  the  earliest  days,  every  twentieth  calf,  pig,  and 
kid  in  the  parish  were  also  his  due.  The  clerical  liberty  was  fur- 
ther hedged  in  by  an  injunction  not  to  give  themselves  "  to 
excess  in  drinking  or  riot,  spending  their  time  idly  by  day  or 
night,  playing  at  cards,  dice,  or  other  unlawful  games;  but  to 
read  or  hear  the  Holy  Scriptures,  or  to  employ  themselves  in 
other  honorable  studies  or  exercise,  bearing  in  mind  that  they 
ought  to  be  examples  to  the  people  to  live  well  and  Christianly." 
On  the  other  hand,  "  he  who  disparaged  a  minister  without  proof, 
was  to  be  fined  five  hundred  pounds  of  tobacco,  and  to  beg  the 
minister's  pardon  publicly  before  the  congregation."  Drunken- 
ness was  fined  five  shillings,  and  every  oath  cost  one  shilling. 
Virginians  in  1674  are  thus  described  by  Bancroft:  "  The  genera- 
tion now  in  existence  were  chiefly  the  fruit  of  the  soil;  they  were 
children  of  the  woods,  nurtured  in  the  freedom  of  the  wilderness, 
and  dwelling  in  lonely  cottages  scattered  along  the  streams.  No 
newspapers  entered  their  houses  ;  no  printing-press  furnished  them 
a  book.  They  had  no  recreations  but  such  as  nature  provides  in 
her  wilds ;  no  education  but  such  as  parents  in  the  desert  could 
give  their  offspring.  The  paths  were  bridleways  rather  than 
roads ;  and  the  highway  surveyors  aimed  at  nothing  more  than  to 
keep  them  clear  of  logs  and  fallen  trees.  Visits  were  made  in 
boats  or  on  horseback  through  the  forests;  and  the  Virginian, 
traveling  with  his  pouch  of  tobacco  for  currency,  swam  the  rivers, 
where  there  was  neither  ferry  nor  ford.  The  houses,  for  the 
most  part  of  one  story,  and  made  of  wood,  often  of  logs,  the 
windows  closed  by  convenient  shutters  for  want  of  glass,  we»-e 


MANNERS    AND    CUSTOMS    IN    THE    SOUTH.  II3 

sprinkled  at  great  distances  on  both  sides  of  the  Chesapeake,  from 
the  Potomac  to  the  line  of  Carolina.  The  parish  was  of  such 
extent,  spreading  over  a  tract  which  a  day's  journey  could  not 
cross,  that  the  people  met  together  but  once  on  the  Lord's  day, 
and  sometimes  not  at  all;  the  church,  rudely  built  in  some 
central  solitude,  was  seldom  visited  by  the  more  remote  families, 
and  was  liable  to  become  inaccessible  by  the  broken  limbs  from 
forest  trees,  or  the  wanton  growth  of  underwood  and  thickets/* 

The  genial  atmosphere  of  the  '*  sunny  South,"  so  unlike  the 
bleak  New  England  climate,  and  the  entirely  different  products 
of  the  two  soils,  each  requiring  its  own  peculiar  mode  of  culture, 
served  constantly  to  increase  the  dissimilarity  in  character  and 
manners  which  primarily  existed  between  the  northern  and  the 
southern  settlers.  The  large  plantations  of  the'  latter  necessi- 
tated a  numerous  train  of  servants.  These,  supplied  at  first  by 
the  apprentices  brought  over  from  England,  were,  in  time,  super- 
seded by  negro  slaves. 

There  being  but  few  books  and  little  education  in  those  early 
times — only  a  few  families  being  able  to  send  their  sons  and  daugh- 
ters to  England  to  be  instructed — excitement  was  often  sought  in 
bull-baiting,  horse-racing,  fox-hunting,  and  cock-fighting.  These 
amusements,  looked  upon  with  horror  by  the  Puritans,  were  not 
considered  at  all  derogatory  to  the  southern  gentleman,  who 
copied  his  sports  from  those  of  the  English  nobility  of  that  day. 
The  finest  of  horses  were  imported  from  the  mother  country,  at 
great  care  and  expense,  and  the  Virginian  planter  was  pardonably 
proud  of  his  well-stocked  stables. 

The  mode  of  originating  a  settlement,  or,  as  Dr.  Ramsay 
quaintly  styles  it,  '*  breaking  ground  on  bare  creation,"  is  thus 
described  in  that  author's  History  of  South  Carolina.  The  par- 
ties migrate  from  the  earlier  settlements  usually  in  March,  or 
about  the  breaking  up  of  the  winter.  They  "  go  with  family  and 
plantation  utensils,  a  few  bushels  of  corn,  and  some  domestic 
animals.  After  fixing  on  a  site,  they  build  in  two  or  three  days  a 
cabin  with  logs,  cut  down  and  piled  one  upon  another  in  the  form 
of  a  square  or  a  parallelogram.  The  floor  is  of  earth ;  the  roof  is 
sometimes  of  bark,  but  oftener  of  split  logs.  The  light  is  received 
through  the  door,  and  in  some  instances  through  a  window  of 
greased  paper,  or  the  bottom  of  a  broken  glass  bottle.  Shelter 
being  prepared,  their  next  care  is  to  provide  food.  The  large 
trees  are  girdled  and  the  underbrush  destroyed.  The  ground, 
8 


EAKLY    AMERICAN    FLOW. 


114  COLONIAL    LIFE. 

thus  exposed  to  the  action  of  the  sun,  is  roughly  ploughed  or 
hoed,  and  so  favors  the  growth  of  the  seed  corn  that  in  ninety 

or  a  hundred  days  the 
ears  are  large  enough 
to  roast,  and  in  six  weeks 
more  the  grain  is  ripe. 
Meantime  the  settler 
lives  on  the  corn  he 
brought  with  him,  and 
on  game  and  fish.  His 
axe  and  gun  furnish  him  with  the  means  of  defence  against  In- 
dians, wild  beasts,  and  robbers.  Light  wood  or  the  heart  of  dry 
pine  logs  affords  a  cheap  substitute  for  candles.  The  surplus  of  his 
crop  may  be  bartered  for  homespun  garments,  or,  if  he  is  married, 
he  may  convert  the  wool  of  his  sheep  or  the  flax  or  cotton  of  his 
field  into  coarse  clothing  for  domestic  use."  In  a  few  years  a 
frame  house  is  built,  floored,  and  shingled.  Other  grains  besides 
corn  are  cultivated.  Fruits  and  vegetables  supply  his  table.  He 
purchases  one  or  two  slaves.  He  builds  a  barn  and  other  out- 
houses. His  children  are  put  to  school.  He  becomes  a  member 
of  a  church.  Tea,  coffee,  and  sugar  are  found  on  his  table.  His 
house  is  glazed  and  decently  furnished.  His  stock  is  enlarged 
and  made  to  further  serve  the  interests  of  his  family.  The  woods 
are  ransacked  for  dye-stuffs,  in  which  Carolina  abounds,  and  the 
homespun  adds  brilliancy  to  durability.  In  short,  he  has  be- 
come an  independent  man  and  respected  citizen. 

Emigrants  from  Maine  and  Vermont  often  struck  into  the 
then  far  west,  along  the  banks  of  the  Monongahela  or  even  of  the 
Ohio.  We  now  speak  of  a  time  as  late  as  just  before  the  Revolu- 
tion. Having  established  the  "  tomahawk  right  "  by  hacking  the 
trees  around  the  circuit — four  hundred  acres — to  which  settlement 
gave  them  free  possession,  they  commenced  pioneer  life.  Wild 
turkeys,  venison,  and  bears*  meat  gave  them  strength  while  they 
waited  the  growth  of  pumpkins,  squashes,  and  potatoes.  A  hom- 
iny block  was  hollowed  out  by  fire,  and  the  corn  was  pounded  by 
a  pestle ;  sometimes,  to  lessen  the  toil,  by  a  sweep  sixteen  feet  long. 
Nail-holes  in  a  piece  of  tin  formed  a  grater  for  the  same  purpose ; 
two  stones  were  also  used,  made  to  play  upon  each  other  in  the 
manner  in  vogue  in  Palestine  since  before  the  days  when  our 
Saviour  spoke  of  ''two  women  grinding  at  the  mill."  A  piece  of 
deerskin  stretched  over  a  hoop  and  pierced  with  hot  wire  made  a 


LATER    COLONIAL    TIMES. 


IIS 


good  sifter  or  bolting  cloth.  A  large  trough  sunk  in  the  ground 
furnished  a  tan-vat  for  each  family.  Ashes  were  used  instead  of 
lime  to  unhair  the  skin ;  bears*  grease  or  hogs'  lard  served  for 
fish-oil,  and  soot  mixed  with  grease  was  an  efficient  blacking. 
The  bark  was  shaved  and  pounded.  Every  family  did  its  own 
shoe-making.  **  Shoe  packs  "  made  like  moccasins  of  single  pieces 
of  leather  often  answered  every  purpose.  The  women  spun  and 
wove  the  linsey-woolsey  for  the  family  clothing  and  fashioned 
every  garment. 


LATEF(    COJLOJNI/iJ.    TIME3. 

In  the  course  of  their  first  century,  the  rigor  of  Puritan  laws 
was  somewhat  softened.  After  the  witchcraft  terror  had  spent  its 
fury,  that  crime,  as  well  as  heresy  and  blasphemy,  disappeared 
from  the  statutes  as  capital  offences.  Here 
and  there,  by  the  side  of  lonely  cross-roads,, 
the  wanderer  still  stumbled  over  heaps  of 
stones,  ''  the  brand  of  infamy  "  under  which 
the  bones  of  the  unhappy  suicide  were  made 
to  rest ;  and  the  pillory,  the  stocks,  and  the 
whipping-post  had  by  no  means  become  obso« 
lete  as  efficient  instruments  in  pointing  morals. 
But  branded  cheeks  and  foreheads  and  decapi- 
tated ears  were  rapidly  vanishing  from  sight 
as  a  means  of  stimulating  sluggard  religious 
consciences,  and  a  man  might  venture  now  on 
a  piece  of  mince-pie  at  Christmas  without  fear 
of  fine  or  punishment.  Crimes  committed 
by  slaves,  who  continued,  to  be  held  in  New 
England  until  the  Revolution,  were  severely  punished,  and  as  late 
as  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century  negroes  were  burned  at 
the  stake  for  such  crimes  as  murder  and  arson. 

Recreations  and  amusements,  which  in  the  first  stages  of 
pioneer  life  are  necessarily  few,  now  received  more  indulgence. 
"Popular  assemblies"  were  introduced  into  Boston  about  1740, 
and  although  at  first  severely  frowned  upon  by  "  all  ladies  of  pro- 
priety," so  maintained  and  strengthened  their  hold  that  in  a  few 
years  a  handsome  hall  was  built  and  supported  by  the  lovers  of 


THE   PILLORY. 


Il6  COLONIAL    LIFE. 

**musick,  dancing,  and  other  polite  entertainments."  In  Litch- 
field, Conn.,  in  1748,  when  a  violin  was  used  for  the  first  time  as 
an  accompaniment  to  the  *'  light  fantastic  toe,"  we  learn  that  the 
pastime  was  enjoyed  by  ''most  of  the  young  people,"  and,  further, 
that  "  the  whole  expense  did  not  exceed  one  dollar,  out  of  which 
the  fiddler  was  paid  !  "  Yet  we  are  told  that  fathers  and  mothers 
were  wont,  then  as  now,  to  shake  their  heads  gravely,  and  sorrow- 
fully bemoan  the  extravagance  of  youth  !  Verily,  in  those  times 
money  was  money.  Minuets  and  sometimes  country  dances 
belonged  to  polite  circles ;  '*  among  the  lower  orders  hipsesaw 
was  everything,"  says  Watson  in  his  Annals  of  Philadelphia. 
About  the  same  time  of  the  assemblies  appeared  the  first  theatri- 
cal performance  in  Boston,  played  at  a  coffee-house — itself  a  new 
institution.  The  idea  was  so  repugnant  to  New  England  notions 
that  a  law  was  immediately  passed  which  banished  the  drama 
from  Massachusetts  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  thereafter. 

In  the  middle  and  southern  colonies,  out  of  the  Puritan  ele- 
ment, life  was  much  gayer.  To  the  frequent  balls  in  the  southern 
cities,  the- young  ladies  from  the  country,  where  the  roads  were 
rough,  used  to  ride  in  on  ponies,  attended  by  a  black  servant, 
''  with  their  hoops  and  full  dress  arranged  over  the  saddle  fore 
and  aft  like  lateen-sails ;  and  after  dancing  all  night,  would  ride 
home  again  in  the  morning."  When  there  was  snow,  sleighing, 
with  a  dance  to  follow,  was  a  popular  pastime  with  the  young 
people,  but  early  hours  were  always  kept.  The  rough,  unpainted 
sleigh,  capable  of  carrying  thirty  persons,  was  expected  to  be  at 
the  door  about  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  The  gentlemen  were 
clothed  in  cocked-hats,  tied  under  the  chin  with  a  blue  cotton 
handkerchief,  leaving  the  queue  to  its  own  sweet  will,  a  large 
camlet  cloak,  and  oversocks  which  covered  the  shoes  and  reached 
to  the  small  clothes  at  the  knee.  Yarn  mittens  protected  the 
hands  and  a  woolen  tippet  the  throat.  The  ladies  were  wrapped 
in  linsey-woolsey  cardinals,  with  hoods  which  *'  were  of  such  am- 
ple dimensions  that  their  heads  looked  like  so  many  beer-casks." 
The  jingle  of  one  or  two  cow-bells  accompanied  them.  Arrived 
at  the  place  of  entertainment,  the  colored  driver  tuned  his 
three-stringed  fiddle,  the  gentlemen  appeared  in  their  square-toed 
pumps,  and  the  ladies  shook  off  their  pattens,  displaying  little 
peak-toed,  high-heeled  slippers.  They  danced  till  eight  o'clock, 
then  hurried  back  to  their  homes,  "  for,"  says  the  relator  of  this 
entertainment,  "  to  be  abroad  after  nine  o'clock  on  comroon  occa- 


LATER    COLONIAL    TIMES.  11/ 

sions  was  a  sure  sign  of  moral  depravity."  The  same  old  gentle- 
man, describing  in  1828  to  a  young  lady  the  courtship  and  wed- 
ding of  her  grandfather  in  New  York,  sixty  years  before,  gives 
us  the  following  picture :  "  The  lover,  after  having  received  per- 
mission of  her  parents,  pays  his  first  visit  to  his  beloved.  In  snuff- 
colored  coat  and  small-clothes,  cornelian  brooch,  paste  buckles, 
lace  frill-worked  cravat,  and  heavily  pomatumed  and  powdered 
hair,  he  is  ushered  into  the  family  presence.  On  one  side  of  the 
fireplace  sit  a  bevy  of  maiden  aunts,  knitting.  On  the  other  side 
is  the  father,  **  stretched  at  his  ease  in  an  arm-chair,  in  a  black  cap 
instead  of  his  wig,  wrapped  in  a  blue  gown,  with  his  breeches 
unbuttoned  at  his  knees,  quietly  smoking  his  pipe.  Mrs.  B.  in  a 
chintz  dress  and  mob-cap  was  at  his  side,  engaged  in  making 
patch-work ;  whilst  the  lovely  Prudence  sat  quite  erect  by  her 
mamma,  with  her  pincushion  and  housewife  dangling  from  her 
waist,  her  eyes  cast  down,  and  her  fingers  diligently  pricking 
themselves  instead  of  her  sampler."  The  young  man  shows  his 
affection  by  keeping  at  a  respectful  distance  from  his  sweetheart ; 
talks  politics  with  the  father,  assists  the  mother  in  arranging  her 
party-colored  squares,  picks  up  straying  balls  of  yarn  for  the  spin- 
sters, and  when  the  bell  rings  nine  gives  one  shy  glance  at  his 
beloved  and  takes  his  leave.  At  the  wedding  which  follows  a 
succession  of  visits  like  the  above,  the  guests  mostly  come  on 
foot,  for  there  are  no  hackney-coaches,  and  private  carriages  are 
not  plentiful.  The  father  of  the  bride  is  dressed  in  full-bottomed 
wig,  velvet  coat  and  breeches,  gold  buckles,  and  waistcoat  reach- 
ing to  the  knees  ;  the  mother  in  plain  brocade  and  snowy  cap  ;  the 
parson  in  "  gown,  cassock  and  bands,  with  a  wig  that  seemed  to 
consist  of  a  whole  unsheared  sheepskin — for  in  1768  it  would  have 
been  rank  heresy  for  a  parson  to  appear  at  a  wedding  in  simple 
black  coat  and  pantaloons."  The  bride  had  her  hair  dressed  over 
a  high  cushion  and  liberally  pomatumed  and  powdered.  The 
height  of  this  tower  was  over  a  foot,  and  on  its  summit  lay  a  single 
white  rose.  Her  tight-sleeved,  low-bodiced  white  satin  dress  was 
distended  at  the  ankles  by  an  ample  hoop,  beneath  which  crept  her 
high-heeled,  peaked  and  spangled  white  kid  shoes.  A  lace  hand- 
kerchief crossed  over  her  bosom  was  fastened  by  a  large  brooch 
containing  the  miniature  of  her  destined  husband.  The  groom 
had  his  hair  sleeked  back  and  highly  pomatumed,  with  the  queue 
so  stiff  that,  having  had  it  dressed  the  afternoon  before,  he  slept 
all  night  in  an  arm-chair,  that  it  might  not  be  disturbed.     "  His 


Il8  COLONIAL    LIFE. 

coat  was  of  a  sky-blue  silk  lined  with  yellow  ;  his  long  vest  of 
white  satin,  embroidered  with  gold  lace ;  his  breeches  of  the  same 
material  and  tied  at  the  knee  with  pink  ribbon."  White  silk 
stockings  and  pumps,  lace  wrist-ruffles  and  frill,  the  latter  pinned 
with  the  miniature  of  his  bride,  completed  his  costume.  After 
the  ceremony  every  one  saluted  the  bride  with  a  hearty  kiss. 

From  this  marriage  in  comparatively  high  life,  let  us  invite 
ourselves  to  one  in  the  wilds  of  Pennsylvania.  The  parties  were 
hardy  pioneers.  A  wedding  was  to  them  a  frolic,  which  shared 
with  reaping,  log-rolling,  and  house-building  for  occasion  of  social 
gathering.  The  party  started  early  in  the  morning  from  the 
house  of  the  groom,  proceeding  in  double  file  on  horses  decked  in 
old  saddles,  old  bridles  or  halters,  and  pack-saddles,  with  a  bag  or 
blankets  thrown  over  them  ;  a  rope  or  string  served  for  a  girth. 
The  jovial  company  were  above  all  reproach  of  fashionable 
extravagance,  for  not  a  store,  tailor,  or  mantua-maker  existed 
within  a  hundred  miles.  Every  article  of  dress  was  home-made 
and  forced  to  do  the  longest  service  possible.  The  gents  appeared 
in  shoe-packs,  moccasins,  leather  breeches,  leggins,  and  linsey  hunt- 
ing-shirts ;  the  ladies  in  linsey  petticoats  and  linsey  or  linen  bed- 
gowns, coarse  shoes,  stockings,  handkerchiefs,  and,  if  any,  buck- 
skin gloves.  Fallen  trees,  interlocked  grape-vines  and  sapiings — 
the  work  of  mischief-lovers,  friends  or  foes — often  delayed  their 
progress.  Sometimes  a  party  in  ambush  fired  a  feu  de  joie^  when 
the  ladies  shrieked,  screamed,  and  implored  help  in  finest  femi- 
nine style,  while  their  partners  bustled  around  and  offered  pro- 
tection as  valiantly  as  if  they  were  veritable  knights  in  full  steel 
armor  and  bound  to  do  battle  to  the  death  for  their  true  lady- 
loves. As  the  party  neared  the  house  of  the  bride,  two  of  the 
most  chivalrous  young  men,  with  an  Indian  yell,  set  out  full  tilt 
for  the  bottle  of  whiskey  which  was  hung  out  for  the  first  arrival. 
Over  logs,  brush,  and  muddy  hollows,  in  a  flush  of  pride  and  dar- 
ing, they  galloped  on  their  large-boned,  clumsy-footed  steeds  to 
the  end  of  the  goal.  The  prize  won,  they  returned  to  the  party, 
giving  the  first  drink  to  the  groom,  who  passed  the  bottle  around  ; 
every  one,  ladies  included,  joining  in  the  dram.  The  ceremony 
over,  dinner  was  in  order.  The  table,  made  of  a  large  slab  of 
timber  hewn  out  with  a  broad-axe  and  set  on  four  sticks,  was 
spread  with  beef,  pork,  fowls,  and  sometimes  deer  and  bear  meat. 
Wooden  bowls  and  trenchers,  a  few  pewter  dishes  and  plates,  some 
horn  and  some   pewter  spoons,  served  the  company  as  well  as 


LATER    COLONIAL    TIMES. 


119 


could  china  or  silver.  If  knives  were  scarce,  they  carried  always 
a  substitute  in  the  belts  of  their  hunting-shirts.  "  After  dinner 
dancing  commenced,  and  usually  lasted  till  the  next  morning. 
The  figures  were  reels,  or  square  sets  and  jigs.  The  commence- 
ment was  always  a  square  four,  which  was  followed  by  what 
was  called  jigging  it  off;  none  were  allowed  to  steal  away  to 
get  a  sleep,  and  if  girls  got  tired,  they  were  expected,  for  want 
of  chairs,  to  sit  upon  the  knees  of  the  gentlemen.  At  nine  or  ten 
o'clock  at  night  some  of  the  young  ladies  would  steal  off  with  the 
bride.  That  was  sometimes  to  a  loft  above  the  dancers,  going 
there  by  a  ladder ;   and  such  a  bride's  chamber  was  floored  with 


THE   OLD-TIME   FIRESIDE. 


clapboards,  lying  loose  and  without  nails.  Some  young  men,  in 
the  meantime,  stole  off  the  groom  to  his  bride.  At  a  later  period, 
they  sent  them  up  refreshments,  of  which  *  black  Betty,'  so  called, 
was  an  essential  part,  as  she  stood  in  their  parlance  for  a  bottle  of 
whiskey."  These  entertainments  sometimes  lasted  several  days, 
or  until  every  one  was  ''  fagged  out."  Happy  for  the  weary  set 
if,  when  they  were  ready  for  their  homeward  ride,  they  found 
their  property  uninjured,  for  slighted  neighbors  were  sometimes 
wont  to  show  their  stealthy  presence,  by  cutting  off  the  manes, 
foretops  or  tails  of  the  horses  belonging  to  invited  guests. 

The  prejudices  of  rank  and  social  precedence  brought  over 


I20  COLONIAL    LIFE. 

from  England  did  not  easily  die  out,  even  in  New  England.  The 
official  dignities  there  were  all  monopolized  by  a  few  leading  fami- 
lies, descending  often  from  father  to  son.  And  as  office  now 
shared  with  wealth  and  high  English  connections — "  which  were 
to  be  proud  of" — in  giving  admission  to  the  charmed  circle  of  the 
gentry,  we  may  conclude  that  the  public  treasury  no  longer  fat- 
tened on  fines  wrung  from  contumacious  candidates.  Until 
within  three  years  of  the  time  when  "all  men"  were  declared  to 
be  '*  created  free  and  equal,''  the  catalogue  of  Harvard  College — 
Yale  had  just  abolished  the  system — was  arranged  according  to 
the  social  rank  of  the  students.  The  list,  made  out  each  year  and 
posted  in  the  buttery,  bore  perpetual  testimony  to  the  rule  of 
caste.  In  those  days  a  young  man's  title  to  a  superior  room,  or 
speedy  attention  at  table,  depended  on  the  date  of  his  father's 
commission  as  justice  of  the  peace  or  some  kindred  petty  sign  of 
social  degree.  We  can  afford  to  laugh  at  it  now  as  an  excellent 
burlesque  on  the  English  custom  of  ranking  by  pedigree,  but  it  was 
a  sore  reality  then,  as  many  an  unlucky  fellow  proved.  Fashion 
seems  also  to  have  invaded  that  scholastic  sanctum,  and  to  have 
divided  popular  attention  with  the  sublimities  of  Horace  and 
Homer.  In  1754,  the  "overseers"  of  the  college  recommended 
the  corporation  to  prohibit  the  wearing  of  "  gold  anr^  silver  lace 
or  brocade  "  by  students.  Indeed,  it  is  very  apparent  that  the 
day  of  the  plainest,  ugliest  cuts  for  all  male  apparel  had  nowhere 
yet  dawned. 

The  early  part  of  the  eighteenth  century  was  particularly 
characterized  by  high  colors  in  dress.  In  1724,  a  runaway  barber 
is  advertised.  "He  wore  a  light  wig,  a  gray  kersey  jacket  lined 
with  blue,  a  light  pair  of  drugget  breeches,  black  roll-up  stock- 
ings, square-toed  shoes,  a  red  leathern  apron,  and  white  vest  with 
yellow  buttons  and  red  linings!"  About  the  same  time  a  lady, 
afflicted  with  the  tender  passion,  thus  bursts  out  in  verse  describ- 
ing the  costume  of  her  beloved : 

"  Mine,  a  tall  youth  shall  at  a  ball  be  seen. 
Whose  legs  are  like  the  spring,  all  clothed  in  green ; 
A  yellow  riband  ties  his  long  cravat, 
And  a  large  knot  of  yellow  cocks  his  hat !" 

The  colonial  gentry,  in  their  morning  negligee,  were  wont  to 
appear  in  elegant  silk  and  velvet  caps  and  dressing  gowns, 
exchanging  them  when  they  went  out  for  hats  and  cloaks  which 


LATER    COLONIAL    TIMES.  121 

glittered  with  broad  gold  lace.  The  evening  drawing-room  was 
enlivened  by  embroidered  garments  of  flowered  silk  and  velvet  in 
blue,  green,  scarlet,  or  purple  hues,  adorned  with  gold  lace,  silver 
knee-buckles,  and  silver  coat,  vest,  and  breeches  buttons.  These 
buttons  bore  sometimes  the  initial  of  the  wearer,  but  were  often 
made  of  real  quarter-dollars  and  eleven-penny  bits,  the  former 
being  used  for  the  coats  and  the  latter  for  vests  and  breeches. 
The  other  gentlemanly  ornaments  consisted  of  gold  or  silver 
sleeve-buttons,  silver  stock-buckle,  and,  perhaps,  a  shagreen- 
cased  watch  of  tortoise-shell  or  pinchbeck,  with  a  silver  or  steel 
chain  and  seal.  The  best  gentlemen  of  the  country  were  content 
with  silver  watches,  although  gold  ones  were  occasionally  used. 
Gold  chains  would  have  been  a  wonder.  It  was  so  rare  to  find 
watches  in  common  use  that  it  was  quite  an  annoyance  at  the 
watchmaker's  to  be  so  repeatedly  called  on  by  street-passengers 
for  the  hour  of  the  day.  Wide  laced  ruffles,  falling  over  the 
hand,  a  gold  or  silver  snuff-box,  and  a  gold-headed  cane  were  con- 
sidered indispensable  to  gentility.  A  well-bred  gentleman  of 
1776,  arrayed  in  his  stately  suit  of  ceremony,  moved  with  a  court- 
liness and  certain  gravity  of  manner  upon  which  we  have  hardly 
improved  in  our  day  of  cultivated  French  nonchalance.  It  is 
not  to  be  supposed,  however,  that  any  but  an  exceedingly  small 
minority  dressed  in  silks  and  velvets. 

Broadcloth  in  winter  and  silk  camlet  in  summer  were  popular 
in  wealthy  circles — coat  and  breeches  of  the  same  material. 
In  1738,  Benjamin  Franklin  advertises  for  clothes  stolen  from 
his  wardrobe,  among  which  we  find :  "  Broadcloth  breeches  lined 
with  leather^  sagathee  coat  lined  with  silk,  and  fine  homespun  linen 
shirts."  Vests  were  made  with  great  depending  pocket-flaps, 
and  breeches  were  short  above  the  stride,  suspenders  being  yet 
an  unknown  luxury.  Working-men  wore  their  breeches  very 
full  and  free  in  girth,  so  that,  when  they  became  prematurely 
thin  in  the  seat,  they  could  be  changed  from  front  to  rear. 
Worsted  everlasting  and  buckskin  were  in  great  demand,  espe- 
cially for  breeches,  and  common  people  were  content  with 
leather,  homespun,  and  various  heavy  wools  for  winter.  Bear- 
skin coats  and  little  woolen  muffs  of  various  colors,  called 
muftees,  were  worn  by  men  in  severe  weather.  Homespun 
linens  and  other  light  stuffs,  coarse  and  fine,  served  for  summer. 
Boots  had  not  yet  come  in  use,  but  every  thrifty  householder  kept 
on   hand  whole  calf-skins  and  sides  of  stout  sole-leather  to  be 


122  COLONIAL    LIFE. 

made  into  shoes  as  required.  **  Before  the  Revolution  no  hired 
men  or  women  wore  any  shoes  so  fine  as  calf-skin ;  that  kind  was 
the  exclusive  property  of  the  gentry ;  the  servants  wore  coarse 
neat's  leather."  Mechanics,  workingmen,  and  **  country  people 
attending  markets  "  were  universally  clothed  in  red  or  green  baize 
vests,  striped  ticking  or  leather  breeches,  and  a  leathern  apron.  On 
Sundays  or  holidays,  a  white  shirt  was  substituted  for  the  checked 
or  speckled  one,  the  deerskin  breeches — greasy  and  stubbornly 
stiff  with  long  wear,  and  only  rendered  supple  by  the  warmth  of 
the  owner's  limbs — were  blacked  or  buft  up,  the  coarse  blue  yarn 
stockings  and  well-greased  shoes  set  off  by  a  pair  of  large  brass 
buckles,  and  the  apprentice  was  at  his  best.  Hired  women  wore 
short  gowns  of  green  baize  and  petticoats  of  linsey-woolsey,  and 
were  happy  with  wages  of  fifty  cents  a  week.  Until  after  the 
Revolution  the  dress  of  working-people  and  domestics  was  dis- 
tinct from  that  of  the  higher  classes. 

Wigs  went  out  of  style  about  twenty  years  before  the  Revolu- 
tion, following  the  lead  of  George  II.  and  the  British  officers  in 
this  country.  Previous  to  that,  their  use  was  universal,  and  as 
human  hair  could  not  be  obtained  in  sufficient  quantity,  horse 
and  goat  hair  "  in  choice  parcels  "  were  freely  advertised  for  this 
purpose.  Gray  wigs  were  powdered,  the  barber  performing  that 
office  on  his  block-head.  After  wigs,  queues  and  frizzled  side- 
locks  had  their  day.  Sometimes  the  hair  was  confined  in  a  black 
silk  sack  or  bag,  adorned  with  a  large  black  rose.  The  three- 
cornered  or  cocked  hat  of  pre-Revolutionary  times  is  familiar  to 
every  one. 

Umbrellas  were  not  known  before  the  middle  ot  the  century. 
The  first  used  were  made  of  oiled  linen,  very  coarse  and  clumsy, 
with  rattan  sticks.  Previous  to  that  the  gentlemen  wore  "  rain- 
coats "  and  *'  roquelaus  " — a  large  oiled  linen  cape ;  ladies  wore 
**  camblets,"  and  sometimes  carried  "  quintasols  " — a  small  article 
something  like  a  parasol,  imported  from  India.  They  were  of 
oiled  muslin  in  various  colors.  When  umbrellas  were  first  used 
as  a  protection  from  the  sun,  great  ridicule  was  made  of  the  idea. 
Ladies,  as  a  preservative  of  their  complexion,  sometimes  wore 
black  velvet  masks  in  winter  and  green  ones  in  the  summer,  keep- 
ing them  on  by  means  of  a  silver  mouthpiece.  Veils  were  un- 
known, except  in  crape  as  a  badge  of  mourning. 

Woman's  extravagance  was  then,  as  it  is  now,  a  juicy  topic  for 
grumblers,  and  an  English  traveler  relates  how  the  Boston  ladies 


LATER    COLONIAL    TIMES.  1 23 

"  indulge  every  little  piece  of  gentility  to  the  height  of  the  mode, 
and  neglect  the  affairs  of  their  families  with  as  good  grace  as  the 
finest  ladies  in  London."  The  practical  satirists  of  the  day  had 
their  own  little  jokes,  and  drove  out  some  of  the  most  offensive 
fashions  by  novel  expedients.  The  loose  dress  called  a  trollopee 
being  distasteful  to  them,  they  dressed  the  wife  of  the  public  hang- 
man of  Philadelphia  in  one,  and  she  paraded  the  streets  in  full  cos- 
tume, mincing  and  strutting  to  the  sound  of  burlesque  music. 
Trollopees  straightway  became  obsolete.  The  long  red  cloaks 
were  quickly  stripped  from  the  shoulders  of  the  ladies  of  the  same 
city  after  a  depraved  female  criminal  had  been  hung,  clothed  in  a 
scarlet  mantle  of  the  most  approved  style.  The  ''tower"  head- 
dress, which  had  been  petted  to  a  ridiculous  extreme,  was  effec- 
tually caricatured  by  a  tall  man,  dre;ised  in  the  latest  feminine 
mode,  and  wearing  a  "  tower  "  of  colossal  proportions,  who  made 
the  tour  of  the  city  streets,  preceded  by  a  drum.  No  one  but  the 
dear  creatures  themselves  guessed  how  much  torture  our  great- 
grandmothers  endured  in  the  building  up  of  a  proper  coiffure.  In 
towns  where  there  were  a  limited  number  of  hair-dressers,  and  a 
grand  party  was  in  contemplation,  it  was  no  uncommon  occur- 
rence for  ladies  to  have  their  hair  frizzed  and  curled — an  opera- 
tion which  required  three  or  four  hours  in  the  hands  of  a  skillful 
barber — the  day  before,  and  then  to  sit  up  all  night  to  prevent  its 
derangement !  It  was  a  great  relief  when  cushions  and  arti- 
ficial curled  work  came  in,  which  could  be  sent  out  to  the  barber's- 
block  and  save  the  agony  of  personal  attendance.  The  fashion- 
able caps  a  hundred  years  ago  were  the  "  Queen's  Nightcap,"  the 
style  always  worn  by  Mrs.  Washington,  and  the  **  cushion  head- 
dress," made  of  gauze  stiffened  out  in  cylindrical  form  with  white 
spiral  wire,  and  having  a  border  called  the  ''balcony."  A  cap 
was  indispensable  in  those  days.  Bare  heads  were  quite  out  of 
character.  Even  the  boys  wore  wigs  like  their  fathers,  and  little 
girls  caps  like  their  mothers.  The  "  musk-melon  bonnet "  had  the 
crown  shirred  with  whalebone  stiffeners,  and  was  in  vogue  just 
before  the  Revolution.  It  was  followed  by  the  "  whalebone  bon- 
net," which  was  shirred  only  in  front.  Bonnets  were  bonnets  in 
those  days,  veritable  sun  umbrellas,  tied  down  at  the  chin.  The 
*'  calash  "  was  always  made  of  green  silk,  so  arranged  that,  when 
the  wearer  desired,  it  could  be  made  to  fall  back  on  the  neck  and 
shoulders  in  folds  like  the  cover  of  a  buggy.  To  keep  it  up  over 
the  head,  it  was  drawn  by  a  cord  held  in  the  hand  of  the  wearer. 


124  COLONIAL    LIFE. 

A  modification  of  this  fashion  has  been  revived  once  or  twice 
during  the  last  half  century.  Satin,  a  favorite  material  for  even- 
ing robes,  was  admirably  suited  to  the  stately  manners  of  the  gen- 
tlewomen of  the  day.  Brocades  and  mantuas  also  shared  the 
public  favor.  At  one  time  gowns  were  worn  without  fronts,  dis- 
playing a  finely-quilted  Marseilles,  silk  or  satin  petticoat,  and  a 
worked  stomacher  on  the  waist.  Chintz  for  summer,  and  some 
sort  of  worsted  for  winter,  were  worn  at  home,  and  "  thought 
dress  enough  for  common  days "  in  the  best  society.  Kerchiefs 
and  aprons  were  as  necessary  as  caps,  and  ranged  in  material 
from  the  finest  of  linen  cambric,  gauze,  and  taffeta,  monopolized 
by  the  rich  gentry,  to  the  coarsest  of  checks,  homespun,  and  tow^ 
worn  by  the  mass  of  the  people.  Before  the  invention  of  the  spin- 
ning-jenny in  1767,  pure  cotton  home  fabrics  were  unknown,  the 
homespun  threads  being  too  irregular  to  be  of  use  except  as  a 
woof,  and  the  supply  being  also  very  limited.  The  first  cotton 
exported  from  the  United  States  to  England  was  sent  in  1785,  the 
ship  taking  but  one  bag.  Hose  were  made  of  thread  or  silk  in 
summer,  and  fine  or  coarse  worsted  in  winter.  Short  gowns  and 
long  gowns  are  familiar  names  in  our  grandmothers'  wardrobes, 
from  the  common  linsey-woolseys  to  the  stiff  large-flowered  bro- 
cades and  satins,  which  we  still  love  to  produce  as  relics  from 
old-fashioned  chests  which  smell  of  camphor  and  cedar.  The 
names  of  those  old  stuffs,  of  calamanco  and  durant  and  groset,  of 
russet  and  wilton  and  tabby,  of  tandem  and  gulix  and  huckaback,, 
sound  strangely  now  to  the  young  American  girl,  who  would  be 
astonished  to  find  that  some  of  them  were  at  least  first  cousins  to 
fabrics  which,  somewhat  refined,  shine  in  the  present  market  under 
high-sounding  French  titles.  Somewhat  less  intelligible  still  is 
the  following  list  of  articles,  dress  materials,  etc.,  taken  from  a 
Philadelphia  advertisement  of  1745  :  '' Quilted  humhums,  turket- 
tees,  grassetts,  single  allopeens,  allibanies,  florettas,  dickmansoy,. 
cushloes,  chuckloes,  cuttanees,  crimson  dannador,  chained  soo- 
$oos,  lemonees,  barragons,  byrampauts,  naffermamy,  and  saxling- 
ham"! 

Although  the  majority  of  houses  were  still  humbly  and  spar- 
ingly furnished,  yet  comforts  had  greatly  increased  during  the 
growing  prosperity  of  the  colonies,  and  a  few  really  elegant  homes 
were  found  in  every  city  of  importance,  belonging  mostly  to  the 
traveled  gentry,  whose  property  had  come  by  descent.  About 
the  close  of  colonial  times  we  hear  of  one  house  in  Boston  which 


LATER    COLONIAL    TIMES. 


125 


ANCIENT  CHAIR. 

(Brought  over  in  the  Mayflower.) 


had  cost  three  thousand  pounds,  and  of  another  whose  furni- 
ture was  worth  one  thousand  pounds.  Large  mirrors,  marble 
tables,  and  Turkey  carpets  figured  in 
fine  stone  mansions.  Elaborate  carv- 
ings were  seen  on  massive  balustrades 
in  spacious  halls,  and  the  parlor  walls 
were  sometimes  adorned  with  painted 
leather  hangings.  Deep  paneled  wain- 
scots and  carved  cornices  and  mantles 
added  to  the  solid  elegance  of  these 
handsome  dwellings.  Crimson  leather 
furnished  a  dignified  upholstery  to  the 
straight  high-backed  mahogany  chairs 
and  sofas,  while  heavy  damask  curtains 
steadied  the  glitter  from  ponderous 
brass  andirons  and  brass  clock.  There 
were  a  few  private  libraries  of  consid- 
erable size,  but  books  were  not  plenti- 
ful, though  well-selected  and  read  with 
care.  People  bought  an  outfit  of  books  as  of  furniture,  expect- 
ing it  to  last  a  lifetime.  Fielding,  the  father  of  English  novelists, 
supplied  the  little  that  was  desired  of  racy  fiction.  Smollett 
had  just  translated  Gil  Bias,  and  that,  with  the  ever-delight- 
ful Don  Quixote,  kept  up  their  sense  of  humor.  The  Vicar 
of  Wakefield,  nevAy  out,  was  read  till  young  and  old  had  it 
almost  by  heart.  Addison's  Spectator  and  Johnson's  Rambler 
were  models  for  correct  style.  Shakespeare  and  Milton  and  Young 
were  studied  until  their  expressions  were  as  familiar  as  thought ; 
while  a  careful  perusal  of  Blackstone's  Commentaries  and  Mon- 
tesquieu's Spirit  of  Laws  was  necessary  to  every  gentleman  who 
sought  to  be  well-read.  Everything,  both  in  books  and  in  furni- 
ture, was  solid.  Shams  had  not  yet  made  their  advent,  and  there 
were  no  veneered  woods,  no  silver-plated  wares.  What  would 
those  straightforward,  substantial  New  Englanders  have  thought 
of  our  day  of  dime  novels  and  of  shoddy  ? 

But  it  was  in  the  country  towns,  where  the  prim  Puritan  ele- 
ment had  not  been  softened  by  recent  English  innovations,  that 
one  saw  real  New  England  life.  White  sanded  floors,  with 
unpainted  pine  settles,  scoured  to  the  last  degree  of  whiteness ; 
maple,  rush-bottomed  chairs  set  squarely  back  against  the  white- 
washed walls;  lofty  clock-cases   reaching  to  the  ceiling;   glass- 


126 


COLONIAL    LIFE. 


doored  corner  closets  wherein  the  china  and  silver — family  treas- 
Yires — were  arranged  at  pure  right  angles ;  high  chests  of  drawers 
filled  with  stores  of  household  linen,  packed  squarely  in ; — every- 
where an  immutable  regularity,  angularity,  and  precision.  Upon 
the  walls,  the  little  looking-glasses  in  two  plates  were  framed  with 
scalloped  wood,  and  black  mouldings  set  off  the  quaint,  stiff 
bunches  of  flowers  painted  on  glass  or  worked  on  satin — testimo- 
nies to  fashionable  accomplishment.  Shining  brass  and  copper 
candlesticks,  ready  to  receive  the  tallow  candles  which  had  been 
snugly  packed  from  the  last  dipping,  were  turned  up  on  their 
large  round  base  upon  the  wooden  shelf.  Fixed  rules  governed 
the  arrangement  of  each  article  of  furniture,  and  were  as  consci- 
entiously observed  as  were  those  which  decided  the  proprieties 
of  manner.  Everything  was  stiff,  uncompromising,  and  sedate — 
everything,  except  the  dancing  fiames  in  the  open  fireplaces 
which  laughed  at  their  own  incongruous,  frolicking  reflections — 
the  one  freedom  amid  perpetual  restraint.  In  the  chambers,  high, 
four-posted  bedsteads  kept  guard  over  the  same  immaculate 
order.  Their  hangings  and  valances  in  the  handsomest  houses 
were  sometimes  of  silk  in  summer  and  heavy  damask  in  winter. 
More  commonly,  however,  they  were  of  snowy  dimity,  or  of  blue 

and  white  stuff  like  the 
coverlets.  Sheets  of  home- 
spun, blankets  of  home- 
made flannel,  quilts  of 
various  hues  —  marvels 
of  industry,  and  narrow, 
downy  pillows  above  the 
soft  bolster,  completed  the 
equipments.  The  thrift  of 
the  New  England  house- 
wife reveled  in  crowded 
drawers  of  bed  and  table 
linen,  which  she  worked 
early  and  late  to  produce. 
"  She  layeth  her.  hands  to 
the  spindle  and  her  hands 
hold  the  distaff"  was  an 
emphatic  record  of  her  daily  life.  The  two  wheels,  one  small 
and  worked  by  the  foot  for  spinning  linen  thread,  and  the  other 
large  and  turned  by  the  hand  for  woolen  yarn,  were  honored  articles 


THE   WOOLEN   SPINNING-WHEEL. 


LATER    COLONIAL    TIMES.  12/ 

in  every  household.  No  less  were  her  kitchen  and  larder  a  pride. 
The  shining  lines  of  pewter  along  the  ample  dresser,  the  painfully 
scoured  floor  and  white  pine  furniture,  the  rows  of  jams  and  mar- 
malades, the  strings  of  dried  pumpkin  and  apples,  the  casks  and 
bottles  of  cider,  metheglin,  and  anise-seed  cordial,  all  attested  her 
careful  forethought.  In  many  houses  a  china  or  silver  bowl  of 
rum  punch  stood  in  the  hall,  a  hospitable  invitation  to  every  guest, 
who  all  drank  from  the  same  dish.  Flip  and  toddy  were  com- 
mon drinks,  and  a  moderate  use  of  the  flowing  bowl  seems  to 
have  been  almost  universal.  But  woe  to  the  man  who  overstepped 
the  subtle  line  which  divides  the  drinker  from  the  drunkard. 
His  name,  posted  in  every  alehouse — the  keepers  of  which  them- 
selves were  required  to  be  of  **  good  character  "  and  "  property- 
holders  " — shut  him  out  forever  from  further  lawful  tippling. 
Just  before  the  Revolution,  a  unique  punishment  was  in  vogue 
in  New  York  for  drunkards.  It  consisted  of  "  three  quarts  of 
warm  water  and  salt  enough  to  operate  as  an  emetic,  with  a  por- 
tion of  /a7np  oi/ to  act  as  a  purge."  In  1772,  a  negro,  found  drunk 
and  sent  to  Bridewell,  died  after  enduring  his  sentence. 

If  one  were  to  tell  all  the  curious  local  customs  which  pre- 
vailed here  and  there  over  the  colonies,  it  would  read  spicily 
enough.  Here  is  a  choice  dish :  "  The  height  of  the  fashion  was 
to  put  into  the  kettle  of  chocolate  several  links  of  sausages,  and, 
after  boiling  all  together,  to  serve  the  guests  with  a  bowl  of 
chocolate  and  sausage.  The  latter  was  cut  up,  and  the  mess 
eaten  with  a  spoon."  When  tea  first  came  in  use,  it  was  boiled  in 
an  iron  kettle  and  strained ;  the  leaves  were  well  buttered,  and  the 
clear  liquid  was  drunk  "  to  wash  down  the  greens."  A  dish 
called  whistle-belly-vengeance  was  made  by  simmering  the  sour 
household  brewed  beer  in  a  brass  kettle,  with  crumbled  crusts  of 
brown  bread,  adding  a  little  molasses.     It  was  served  hot. 

Yet,  without  carpets,  gas,  or  other  "  modern  improvements," 
taking  their  long  journeys  over  rough  roads  in  lumbering  coaches 
or  on  horse,  cooking  by  open  fireplaces,  and  spinning  and  weaving 
all  needful  articles  for  use  or  wear  by  slow  hand  labor,  our  pre- 
Revolutionary  fathers  and  mothers  extracted,  doubtless,  quite 
as  much  comfort  from  life  as  their  more  luxurious  descendants. 
The  old-time  physician  did  not  neglect  his  patients  though  he 
always  made  his  calls  on  foot,  and  never  ventured  to  charge  more 
than  two  shillings  for  each  visit ;  while  fair  ladies  bustled  through 
the   muddy   streets  in   pattens  and  galoshes,  and  deemed  it  no 


128  COLONIAL    LIFE. 

great  hardship  to  sit  out  a  round  hour  sermon  with  only  the  little 
tin  or  wooden  foot-stove  under  their  feet  to  temper  the  winter 
chill  of  the  meeting-house  which  had  never  known  a  fire.  When 
the  frosts  lay  heavy  on  lake  and  river,  came  the  festivities  of 
skating,  and  the  great  ox  was  roasted  on  the  thick-ribbed  ice. 
With  spring  came  May-day,  still  kept  up  in  many  parts  with  true 
Old  England  merriment.  For  ball  and  party  invitations,  since 
blank  cards  were  yet  unknown,  the  back  of  a  common  playing- 
card  served  as  well  as  anything  else  ;  why  not  ?  No  opportunity 
for  promiscuous  flirting  or  coquetry  then,  when  a  partner  was 
engaged  for  the  whole  evening,  each  couple  being  expected  to 
drink  tea  together  on  the  following  afternoon. 

We  turn  again  to  the  sunny  South,  seeking  repose  in  a  Vir- 
ginia planter's  luxurious  home.  We  have  seen  how  these  spacious 
mansions  were  situated,  dotting  at  long  intervals  the  bank  of 
some  lovely  river.  Free,  generous,  a  prince  in  hospitality,  the 
southern  gentleman  kept  open-house  to  all  respectable  strangers 
who  might  seek  food  or  lodging.  "  The  doors  of  citizens,"  says  a 
southern  writer,  **  are  opened  to  all  decent  travelers  and  shut 
against  none.  Innkeepers  complain  that  this  is  carried  to  such  an 
extent  that  their  business  is  scarcely  worth  following.  The 
abundance  of  provisions  on  plantations  renders  the  exercise  of 
this  virtue  not  inconvenient,  and  the  avidity  of  country  people 
for  hearing  news  makes  them  rather  seek  than  shun  the  calls  of 
strangers.  The  State  may  be  traveled  over  with  very  little 
expense  by  persons  furnished  with  letters  of  introduction,  or  even 
without  them  by  calling  at  the  plantations  of  private  gentlemen 
on  or  near  the  roads."  It  was  a  delightful  termination  to  a  day 
of  weary  journeying  when  the  bridle  was  loosed  before  one 
of  these  inviting  country  homes  and  the  gentlemanly  host 
uttered  his  courteous  welcome.  Over  the  low  verandas  and 
balconies  climbed,  in  wanton  luxuriance,  the  yellow  jasmine,  sweet 
honeysuckle,  or  the  trumpet  flower;  the  soft  air  was  fragrant 
with  the  breath  of  scented  shrubs  which  sprang  from  warm,  moist 
earth ;  everywhere  was  an  atmosphere  of  delicious  languor. 
Within  the  dwelling  was  the  same  air  of  repose.  The  music  of 
the  harpsichord  was  oftener  heard  than  the  hum  of  the  spinning- 
wheel,  though  the  southern  matron  had,  too,  her  own  peculiar 
round  of  duties.  Black  slaves  performed  all  the  domestic  labors, 
it  is  true  ;  but  the  heart  of  the  kind  mistress  was  mindful  of  the 
wants  of  her  large  and,  in  many  respects,  dependent  household, 


LATER    COLONIAL    TIMES.  1 29 

in  which  she  found  sufficient  employ.  Her  articles  of  luxury  and 
many  of  her  comforts  were  brought  direct  from  England.  Ships 
from  Liverpool  sailed  up  the  river  and  delivered  at  the  private 
wharf  of  the  wealthy  planter  the  goods  of  fashionable  attire  or 
household  elegance  which  he  had  ordered  from  England,  receiv- 
ing in  return  the  tobacco  sowed,  gathered,  and  packed  by  the 
negroes  on  the  plantation.  Along  the  Potomac  many  of  the  plant- 
ers had  beautiful  barges  imported  from  England,  which  were  rowed 
by  negroes  in  uniform.  When  they  traveled  on  horseback,  they 
were  attended  by  their  black  servants  in  livery.  The  ladies  often 
took  their  airing  in  a  chariot  and  four,  with  liveried  black  postil- 
lions. A  short  distance  from  the  family  residence  stood  the  kit- 
chen, which,  like  the  laundry,  was  always  separate  from  the 
mansion.  From  its  large,  open  fireplace,  presided  over  by  some 
ancient  Dinah  or  Chloe  in  gorgeous  red  or  yellow  turban,  came 
savory  dishes  of  sweet  bacon,  wild-fowl,  or  game.  Hot  biscuit 
were  served  at  every  meal,  and  no  breakfast  was  complete  with- 
out a  plate  of  delicious  *'  hoe-cakes  " — cakes  made  of  Indian  meal 
and  baked  before  the  fire,  which  are  as  naturally  associated  with 
the  southern  table  as  pumpkin-pies  with  the  New  England  board 
or  doughnuts  with  the  Dutch.  Conveniently  retired,  might  be 
found  the  negro  quarters  ;  a  cluster  of  wooden  cabins  each  with 
its  own  little  garden  and  poultry  yard,  and  with  swarms  of 
black  babies,  pickaninnies,  gambolling  in  the  sunshine.  The  south- 
ern planter,  like  the  roving  Merovingian  kings  of  France,  had 
artificers  of  all  kinds  in  his  retinue  of  servants:  tailors,  shoe- 
makers, carpenters,  smiths,  and  so  on  through  all  the  needful 
trades  of  ordinary  life.  There  w«-^ample  stables  for  the  blooded 
horses,  and  kennels  for  the  hounds,  for  the  chase  was  a  favorite 
diversion.  Washington  was  passionately  fond  of  it,  and  the 
names  of  his  fox -hounds — Vulcan,  Singer,  Sweetlips,  Music, 
Truelove,  etc. — were  carefully  registered  in  his  household  books, 
the  character  of  some  of  them  giving  us  a  faint  hint  of  an  under- 
current of  sentiment,  which  in  his  grave  dignity  he  seldom 
revealed.  On  his  beautiful  Mount  Vernon  estate,  that  wonderful 
man,  as  careful  a  proprietor  as  he  was  brave  general  and  accom- 
plished gentleman,  so  watched  over  his  exports  that  they  became 
noted  as  always  reliable,  and  it  was  said  that  any  barrel  of  flour 
bearing  his  brand  passed  into  West  India  ports  without  inspec- 
tion. 

Washington's  early  friend  and  patron,  Lord  Thomas  Fairfax, 
9 


I30 


COLONIAL    LIFE. 


possessed  one  of  the  largest  estates  in  America.  His  mansion  house, 
called  Greenway  Court,  in  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  was  the  scene 
of  many  brilliant  festivities.  He  was  an  ardent  loyalist,  and  when 
he  heard  of  the  surrender  of  Cornwallis,  it  is  related  that  he  said 
to  his  servant,  "  Come,  Joe,  carry  me  to  bed,  for  it  is  high  time  for 
me  to  die.''  Nor  did  he  long  survive  that  event.  His  immense 
lands,  valued  at  ninety-eight  thousand  pounds,  were  confiscated  to 
the  Union.  They  embraced  five  million  two  hundred  and  eighty- 
two  thousand  acres,  including  everything  between  the  Potomac 
and  the  Rappahannock.  When  we  read  of  one  person  enjoying 
the  title-claim  to  an  extent  of  territory  covering  all  the  present 
counties  of  Lancaster,  Northumberland,  Richmond,  Westmore- 
land, Stafford,  King  George,  Prince  William,  Fairfax,  Loudon, 
Fauquier,  Culpepper,  Clarke,  Madison,  Page,  Shenandoah,  Hardy, 
Hampshire,  Morgan,  Berkeley,  Jefferson,  and  Frederick — twenty- 
one  in  all — we  do  not  wonder  that  in  those  times  common  people 
made  bitter  complaint  that  all  Virginia  was  in  the  hands  of  a  few 
owners. 


FIELD-SPORTS   OF  THE   SOUTH — FOX-HUNTING. 


PART     II. 


M  W^  ^  %  feti^Itifen. 


•*  Over  the  hill-sides  the  wila  knell  is  tolling. 
From  their  far  hamlets  the  yeomanry  come  ; 
As  through  the  storm-clotuis  the  thunder-burst  rollings 
Circles  the  beat  of  the  mustering  drum. 
Fast  on  the  soldiers  path 
Darken  the  waves  of  wrath. 
Long  have  they  gathered,  and  loud  shall  they  fall ; 
Red  glares  the  muskefs  flash. 
Sharp  rings  the  rifle's  crash, 
Blazing  and  clanging  from  thicket  and  wall" — HOLMES. 


CHAPTER     I. 

JLIEJ^ATIOJJ   OF  THE   COLOJ^IES. 


HE  scattered  settlements  along 
the  Atlantic  grew  into  a  nation 
as  naturally  as  infancy  matures 
into  manhood.  The  whole  his- 
tory of  the  colonies  pointed  an 
index  hand  to  Lexington  and 
Bunker  Hill.  The  Declaration  of  Independence  was  but  the 
normal  outgrowth  of  the  contract  signed  by  the  Pilgrims  in  Cape 
Cod  Harbor  a  little  over  a  century  and  a  half  before.  The  so- 
called  "■  Causes  of  the  Revolution  "  only  served  to  develop  that 
which  had  its  root  in  the  very  nature  of  things.  This  country 
was  settled  by  men  who  fled  from  persecution  at  home,  and 
America  to  them  meant  liberty  above  all  things  else.  Free- 
dom was  their  birthright,  and  they  had  studied  its  principles 
thoroughly.  To  provoke  such  men  by  injustice,  was  to  shake 
rudely  every  tie  which  bound  them  to  the  mother  country.  Just 
this  England  did,  wantonly  and  continually. 


134  ALIENATION    OF    THE    COLONIES.  [1750. 

The  royal  governors  often  carried  matters  with  a  high  hand. 
There  were  attempts  made  to  take  away  the  charters  of  Massa- 
chusetts, Rhode  Island,  and  Connecticut.  There  were  sugges- 
tions of  creating  a  provincial  peerage  and  of  giving  the  Estab- 
lished Church  the  precedence  in  all  the  colonies.  In  the  army,  a 
''regular"  captain  outranked  a  ''provincial"  colonel.  Every 
effort  was  made  to  keep  the  colonies  dependent,  and  to  favor  the 
British  manufacturer  and  merchant.  Even  Pitt,  the  friend  of 
America,  asserted  that  the  colonists  had  "  no  right  to  manufac- 
ture a  nail  for  a  horse-shoe."     Commerce  and  manufactures  were 

\  bound  hand  and  foot.  In  1750,  the  Americans  were  forbidden  to 
send  pig-iron  to  England  and  to  make  steel  or  bar  iron  for  home 
use.  Iron-works  were  declared  "  common  nuisances."  The  expor- 
tation of  hats  from  one  colony  to  another  was  prohibited,  and  no 
hatter  was  allowed  to  have  more  than  two  apprentices  at  one 
time,  as  the  colonists,  if  let  alone,  "  would  supply  all  the  world 
with  hats."     The  importation  of  sugar,  rum  and  molasses  was  bur- 

.  dened  with  exorbitant  duties ;  and  the  Carolinians  were  forbidden 
to  cut  down  the  pine-trees  of  their  vast  forests,  in  order  to  con- 
vert the  wood  into  staves,  or  the  juice  into  turpentine  and  tar,  for 
commercial  purposes.     England,  says  Sabine,  forbade  the  use  of 

<rwaterfalls,  the  erection  of  machinery,  looms  and  spindles,  and 
the  working  of  wood  and  iron ;  set  the  king's  broad  arrow  upon 
trees  in  the  forest ;  shut  out  markets  for  boards  and  fish ;  seized 
sugar  and  molasses,  and  the  vessels  in  which  they  were  carried ; 
required  an  American  vessel  wrecked  on  the  Irish  coast  to  first 
send  its  goods  destined  for  an  Irish  market  to  England,  and  then 
have  them  brought  back  to  Ireland  in  an  English  vessel ;  and  at- 
tempted to  define  the  limitless  ocean  to  be  but  a  narrow  pathway 
to  such  lands  as  bore  the  British  flag.  Such  odious  laws  drove 
men  to  their  violation.  It  was  the  only  hope  of  trade.  Smug- 
gling became  so  compion  that  it  is  said  of  the  one  and  a  half 
million  dollars  worth  of  tea  used  annually  in  the  colonies, 
scarcely  any  had  paid  duty.  Not  one  chest  out  of  five  hundred 
landed  in  Boston  was  regularly  entered.  A  considerable  part  of 
Hancock's  fortune  inherited  from  his  uncle  was  made  by  smug- 
gling tea  in  molasses  hogsheads ;  and  at  the  breaking  out  of  the 
Revolution,  the  crown  had  sued  Hancock  himself  to  recover 
penalties  for  violations  of  revenue  laws  to  the  amount  of  half  a 
million  dollars. 

The  home  government  had  incurred  heavy  expenses  during 


3761.] 


WRITS    OF    ASSISTANCE. 


135 


the  old  French  and  Indian  war.  George  III.  was  now  king. 
Pitt,  who  was  almost  idolized  in  America,  was  dismissed,  and  the 
monarch,  following  incompetent  ministers  like  Bute,  Grenville, 
and  Townshend,  stupidly  and  wantonly  drove  on  the  colonists  to 
revolt.  It  was  determined  to  make 
the  rich  and  thriving,  young  colo- 
nies contribute  to  the  payment 
of  the  debt.  The  colonists  were 
not  represented  in  parliament,  and 
they  declared  the   principle  that 

V  Taxation  without  represen- 
tation IS  tyranny." 

Step  by  step  the  struggle  now 
went  on.  In  1761,  strict  orders 
were  received 
by  the  revenue 
officers  to  en- 
force the  obnox- 
ious laws  against 
trade.  Warrants, 
or  writs  of  assist- 
ance, as  they 
were  called,  were 

-^  issued,  authoriz- 
ing these  per- 
sons to  search  for 

smuggled  goods.  With  such  a  pretext,  any  petty  custom-house 
official  could  ransack  a  man's  house  or  store  at  his  pleasure.  The 
colonists  held  the  Englishman's  maxim,  that  *'  every  m.an's  house 
is  his  castle."  The  royal  collectors  were  accordingly  resisted 
from  one  end  of  the  country  to  the  other.  At  the  General  Court 
in  Boston,  James  Otis,  without  fear  or  fee,  eloquently  withstood 
the  issuing  of  such  warrants.  **  To  my  dying  day,"  said  he,  ^'  I  will 
oppose,  with  all  the  powers  and  faculties  God  has  given  me,  all 
such  instruments  of  slavery  on  the  one  hand  and  villainy  on  the 
other."  ''  Then  and  there,"  wrote  John  Adams,  "the  trumpet  of 
the  Revolution  was  sounded." 

From  that  time,  in  his  indignation,  Adams  could  "never  read 
the  acts  of  trade  without  a  curse."  In  1764,  parliament  distinctly 
declared  its  "  right  to  tax  America."  Colony  after  colony  entered 
its  solemn  protest;  but  in  vain.      In   1765,  the  Stamp  Act  was 


WILLIAM   PITT,   EARL  OF  CHATHAM. 


136 


ALIENATION    OF    THE    COLONIES. 


[1765. 


passed.  This  ordered  that  no  legal  document  was  valid  unless  it 
bore  a  British  stamp  costing  from  three  pence  to  six  pounds ;  that 
every  newspaper  and  pamphlet  should  bear  a  stamp  worth  from  a 
halfpenny  to  four  pence ;  and  that  each  advertisement  should  pay 
a  duty  of  two  shillings. 

The  ministers  were  authorized  to  send  troops  to  America,  and, 
by  a  clause  in  the  Mutiny  Act,  it  was  ordered  that  the  colonista 
^should  provide  the  soldiers 
with  quarters  and  necessary 
supplies.  America  was  not 
only  to  be  taxed  but  to  be 
made  to  house  and  feed  its 
oppressors.     The  assembly  of 


Virginia  was  in  session  when 
these  obnoxious  laws  were  an- 
nounced.      Patrick    Henry,   a 
young    lawyer,   the   youngest 
member  of  the  house,  quickly 
drew  upon  the  blank  leaf  of  an 
old  law-book  a  series  of  resolutions  denying  the  right  of  parlia- 
ment to  tax  America.     He  supported  these  in  a  strain  of  burning 
patriotism,  declaring,  "  Csesar  had  his  Brutus,  Charles  I.  his  Crom- 


PATRICK  HENRY  ADDRESSING  THE  VIRGINIA  ASSEMBLY. 


1765.]  THE    MUTINY    ACT.  1 3/ 

well,  and  George  III." — here  pausing  till  the  cry  of  ''Treason! 
Treason  !"  from  several  parts  of  the  house  had  subsided,  he  delib- 
erately added — ''  may  profit  by  their  examples.  If  this  be  trea- 
son, make  the  most  of  it."  ''  The  sun  of  liberty  is  set,"  wrote 
Franklin ;  ''  the  Americans  must  light  the  lamps  of  industry  and 
economy."  "  Be  assured,"  was  the  reply  of  Colonel  Thomson, 
"  we  shall  light  lamps  of  a  very  different  character." 

The  tide  of  opposition  everywhere  ran  high,  and  even  some- 
times overflowed  the  barriers  of  law  and  order.  The  houses  of 
British  officials  were  mobbed.  The  opponents  of  the  tax  met  on 
Boston  Common  under  a  large  elm,  famous  as  the  "  liberty  tree." 
Associations  were  formed  which  took  the  name  of  "  Sons  of 
Liberty,"  a  phrase  used  by  Colonel  Barre  in  a  powerful  speech, 
now  familiar  to  every  school-boy,  delivered  in  parliament  in 
defence  of  the  colonies.  At  Portsmouth,  N.  H.,  a  coffin  inscribed 
"  Liberty,  aged  CXLV  years,"  was  borne  to  an  open  grave. 
With  muffled  drums  and  solemn  tread,  the  procession  moved  from 
the  State  House.  Minute-guns  were  fired  till  the  grave  was 
reached,  when  a  funeral  oration  was  pronounced  and  the  coffin 
lowered.  Suddenly  it  was  proclaimed  that  there  were  signs  of 
life.  The  coffin  was  raised.  A  new  inscription,  "  Liberty 
Revived,"  was  appended.  Bells  rung,  trumpets  sounded,  men 
shouted,  and  a  jubilee  ensued.  Stamps  were  everywhere  seized, 
and  the  agents  were  forced  to  resign.  The  people  agreed  not  to 
use  any  article  of  British  manufacture.  Trade  with  England 
almost  ceased.  The  women  entered  heartily  into  the  struggle^ 
and  the  newspapers  of  the  day  are  full  of  their  patriotic  doings. 
They  formed  associations  called  ''  Daughters  of  Liberty,"  and 
spun  and  wove  with  renewed  vigor,  determined  to  prove  them- 
selves independent  of  the  mother-country.  *'  Within  eighteen 
months,"  wrote  a  gentleman  at  Newport,  Rhode  Island,  ''  four 
hundred  and  eighty -seven  yards  of  cloth  and  thirty-six  pairs  of 
stockings  have  been  spun  and  knit  in  the  family  of  James  Nixon 
of  this  town."  In  Newport  and  Boston  the  women,  at  their  tea- 
drinkings,  used,  instead  of  imported  tea,  the  dried  leaves  of  the 
raspberry,  which  they  called  Hyperion.  The  feeling  spread  to 
every  condition  of  life.  The  very  children  in  the  streets  caught 
up  the  cry,  "  Liberty  and  property  forever !      No  stamps." 

In  North  Carolina  John  Ashe,  speaker  of  the  Assembly,  declared 
to  Governor  Tryon,  "  This  law  will  be  resisted  to  blood  and 
to  death."      When  the  sloop-of-war  Diligence  anchored  in  Cape 


138 


ALIENATION    OF    THE    COLONIES. 


[1765. 


Fear  harbor  with  a  supply  of  stamped 
paper  for  the  use  of  the  colony,  the 
crowd,   headed    by   Colonels   Ashe 
and  Waddell,  prohibited  the  terri- 
fied captain  from  land- 
ing his  cargo.    Thence 
they  marched   to   the 
governor's    palace    at 
Wilmington       and 
threatened  to  burn  it 
over  his   head  unless 
he  gave  up  the  stamp- 
master,     whom     they 
forced  to  swear  not  to 
discharge    the    duties 
of  his  office. 

Massachusetts  sug- 
gested a  convention 
to  be  held  at  New 
York  in  October.  The 
call  was  en- 


dorsed by 
South  Car- 
olina, and 
delegates 
met      from 


nine     colonies. 
They      proposed 
a    declaration    of 
rights,    and     me- 
morials     to     the 
king    and    parlia- 
ment.     The   first 
of  November,  the 
time  appointed  for 
the  law  to  go  into 
effect,     was     ob- 
served as  a  day  of  mourning.     Bells 
were  tolled,  flags  were  raised  at  half- 
mast,   and   business   was   suspended. 
Samuel    and    John    Adams,    Patrick 


BENJAMIN    FRANKLIN. 


1766.]  REPEAL    OF    THE    STAMP    ACT.  1 39 

Henry,  and  James  Otis  aroused  the  people  over  the  whole  land 
by  their  stirring  and  patriotic  speeches. 

In  February,  1766,  Benjamin  Franklin,  then  in  England  as 
agent  for  Pennsylvania,  was  called  before  the  bar  of  the  House 
of  Commons  and  questioned  concerning  the  condition  of  the 
colonies.  His  firm  and  decisive  answers  greatly  impressed  the 
officers  of  the  crown.  The  English  government,  finding  that  the 
Stamp  Act  could  not  be  executed,  except  by  force  of  arms,  at  last 
repealed  it.  The  news  was  received  in  America  with  transports 
of  joy.  Addresses  of  thanks  were  voted  to  the  king  and  distin- 
guished statesmen,  such  as  Camden,  Pitt,  and  Barre.  At  Boston, 
Faneuil  Hall  was  adorned  with  full-length  pictures  of  the  latter 
two  friends  of  America.  The  debtors  were  released  from  jail,  and 
what  with  fireworks,  public  entertainments,  music,  and  parades, 
the  day  was  one  of  the  happiest  ever  seen.  The  "  home  feeling  " 
toward  England  was  restored  and  trade  resumed. 

But  the  cloud  soon  settled  again.  The  government  still 
declared  its  right  to  inflict  taxation  on  the  colonies.  Duties  were 
imposed  on  tea,  glass,  paper,  etc.,  and  a  Board  of  Trade  was  V 
established  at  Boston,  to  act  independently  of  the  colonial  assem- 
blies. The  press  and  the  pulpit  at  once  sounded  the  alarm.  The 
non-importation  agreement  was  revived  with  greater  stringency. 
The  New  York  assembly,  refusing  to  quarter  English  troops  at 
the  colonial  expense,  was  suspended  from  all  legislative  acts. 
The  Massachusetts  assembly  having  sent  a  circular  to  the  other 
colonies  urging  a  union  for  redress  of  grievances,  parliament, 
in  the  name  of  the  king,  ordered  it  to  rescind  its  action.  It 
almost  unanimously  refused.  In  the  meantime  the  assemblies  of^ 
nearly  all  the  colonies  had  declared  that  parliament  had  no  right 
to  tax  them  without  their  consent.  Hereupon  they  were  warned 
not  to  imitate  the  disobedient  conduct  of  Massachusetts. 

New  events  constantly  occurred  to  keep  up  the  excitement. 
The  commissioners  of  customs  seized  a  sloop  laden  with  wine, 
because  the  owner,  John  Hancock,  refused  to  pay  duty  upon  it ; 
but  the  mob  falling  upon  them,  they  were  glad  to  take  refuge  in 
Castle  William.  Boston  being  considered  the  hotbed  of  the 
rebellion,  General  Gage  ordered  thither  two  regiments  of  troops. 
They  entered  on  a  quiet  Sunday  morning,  and  marched  as 
through  a  conquered  city,  with  drums  beating  and  flags  flying. 
All  the  prejudices  of  a  peaceful.  Sabbath-loving,  liberty-sworn 
people  were  thus  aroused.     Quarters  being  refused,  the  soldiers 


I40 


ALIENATION    OF    THE    COLONIES. 


[1770. 


took  possession  of  the  State  House.  The  Common  was  soon 
covered  with  tents.  Cannon  were  planted,  sentries  posted,  and 
citizens  challenged ;  while  the  harbor  was  occupied  by  a  fleet  of 
vessels. 

An  obsolete  law  of  the  time  of  Henry  VIH.  was  revived,  and 
the  governor  of  Massachusetts  ordered  to  send  the  persons  con- 
cerned in  the  late  disturbance  to  England  for  trial.  This  high- 
handed measure  was  bitterly  opposed  by  a  minority  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  Burke  exclaiming,  *'  Can  you  not  trust  the  juries 
of  that  country  ?  If  you  have  not  a  party  among  two  millions 
of  people,  you  must  either  change  your  plans  of  government 
or  renounce  the  colonies  forever." 

The  presence  of  the  soldiers  in  Boston  was  a  constant  aggra- 
vation, and  the  people  did '  their  utmost  to  render  their  stay 
uncomfortable.  The  city  committee  persuaded  the  farmers  to 
sell  them  nothing  but  the  provisions  necessary  for  their  existence ; 
straw,  timber,  boards,  and  other  articles  were  purposely  withheld 
from  their  market.  Articles  purchased  by  the  agents  of  govern- 
ment encountered  mysterious  accidents;  straw  took  fire  and 
burned ;  vessels  with  bricks  sunk ;  wood-carts  overturned,  and, 
in  short,  the  vexations  of  life  were  multiplied  upon  them. 

Frequent  quarrels  took  place  between  the  people  and  the 
"red-coats."  One  day  (March  5,  1770)  a  crowd  of  men  and  boys, 
maddened  by  their  presence,  insulted  the  city  guard.  A  fight 
ensued.      Several  citizens  were  wounded  and  three  killed.      The 

bells  were  rung.  The  country  people 
rushedin  to  the  help  of  the  city.  Quiet 
was  with  difficulty  restored.  But  the 
snow  in  King  Street  was  purple,  and 
"  that  stain,  though  it  melted  away  in 
the  next  day's  sun,  was  never  forgot- 
ten nor  forgiven."  In  the  morning 
Faneuil  Hall  was  filled  with  an  indig- 
nant crowd.  The  immediate  removal 
of  the  troops  was  demanded.  The 
government  was  forced  to  yield,  and 
to  order  the  soldiers  out  of  the  city  to 
Castle  William.  The  citizens  slain  in 
the  brawl  were  buried  with  solemn  pageantry,  and  apotheosized 
as  the  first  martyrs  to  liberty.  The  story  of  the  "  Boston  Mas- 
sacre," as  it  was  called,  became  a  tale  of  horror.     The  fact  that 


FANEUIL    HALL. 


1771.]  THE    BOSTON    MASSACRE.  I4I 

the  soldiers  fired  in  self-defence  against  an  excited  mob  was 
ignored,  and  the  hate  of  foreign  domination  was  intensified  by 
details  of  what  was  spread  as  an  unprovoked  assault  upon  quiet 
and  defenceless  citizens. 

The  guard  which  had  fired  on  the  mob  were  tried  for  murder. 
The  result  was  a  beautiful  triumph  of  law  and  order  over  popular 
prejudice.  The  defence  was  conducted  by  John  Adams  and 
James  Otis.  In  spite  of  the  universal  agitation,  all  were  acquitted 
except  two,  who  were  convicted  of  manslaughter  only.  These 
were  branded  in  the  hand  in  open  court  and  discharged.  This 
fair  and  honorable  trial  exhibited  the  temper  of  the  people  and 
the  uselessness  of  reviving  an  ancient  statute  in  order  to  secure 
justice. 

In  North  Carolina  the  insolence  shown  in  the  notorious 
embezzlements  of  the  royal  oificers  aroused  open  rebellion.  The 
governor,  who  was  himself  squandering  the  funds  in  building  a 
palace,  stated  in  an  official  paper  that  the  ''  sheriffs  had  purloined 
more  than  half  the  public  moneys."  In  this  province  the  revenue 
was  raised  by  a  poll-tax,  so  that  the  richest  merchant  paid  no 
more  than  the  poorest  laborer.  The  officers  often  levied  four- 
times  the  lawful  tax.  The  courts  refused  the  distressed  people 
their  rights.  Money  was  scarce  ;  wheat  brought  only  one  shilling 
per  bushel,  and  that  after  being  hauled  fifty  or  a  hundred  miles  to 
market.  Under  such  circumstances  the  taxes  became  simply 
unendurable.  At  last,  as  the  only  means  of  obtaining  justice,  an 
association  of  regulators  was  formed  for  the  avowed  purpose  of 
redressing  the  grievances  of  the  country.  Governor  Tryon, 
however,  marched  against  them,  defeated  them  at  Alamance 
Creek  (May  16,  1771),  and  left  three  hundred  of  their  number 
dead  on  the  field.  Six  were  afterward  hanged.  The  governor 
and  his  satellites  took  possession  of  such  of  their  estates  as  they 
desired.  Not  a  few  of  the  hardy  backwoodsmen  fled  to  the 
wilderness  and  obtained  lands  of  the  Cherokees,  where  they  laid 
the  foundation  of  the  State  of  Tennessee.  The  regulators  were 
subdued,  though  a  bitter  hatred  of  British  rule  was  engendered. 

In  1772,  the  Gaspee,  a  British  revenue  schooner,  while  chasing 
a  vessel,  ran  aground.  The  opportunity  was  too  good  to  be  lost. 
That  night  a  party  from  Providence  boarded  and  set  her  on  fire. 

The  English  government  was  greatly  alarmed  by  the  steady 
determination  evinced  by  the  colonies.  The  merchants,  whose 
goods  lay  unsold  in  their  warehouses,  offered  to  pay  the  govern- 


142  ALIENATION    OF    THE    COLONIES.  [1773. 


THE  REGULATORS  THREATENING  GOVERNOR  TRYON. 


ment  the  entire  amount  expected  to  be  realized  from  the  duties. 
Finally,  all  were  rescinded  except  that  on  tea,  which  was  left 
merely  to  maintain  the  right  of  taxation.  With  a  curious  mis- 
apprehension of  the  American  spirit,  an  arrangement  was  made 
with  the  India  Company  whereby  this  could  be  furnished  at  a 
cheaper  rate  in  America  than  in  England.  The  subterfuge  only 
exasperated  the  patriots.  They  were  fighting  for  a  great  princi- 
ple, not  against  a  paltry  tax. 

At  Charleston  the  tea  was  stored  in  damp  cellars,  where  it 
soon  spoiled.  The  tea-ships  at  New  York  and  Philadelphia  were 
sent  home.  The  British  authorities  at  Boston  refused  to  let  the 
vessels  loaded  with  tea  return.  Upon  this,  an  immense  public 
meeting  was  held  at  Faneuil  Hall.  Speeches  were  made  by 
Quincy,  Adams  and  others.  It  was  resolved  that  the  tea  should 
never  be  landed.  That  evening  (December  i6,  1773),  memorable 
in  American  history,  a  party  of  men  disguised  as  Indians  boarded 
the  vessels  and  emptied  three  hundred  and  forty-two  chests  of 
tea  into  the  water.  The  dock  was  crowded  with  people  who 
looked  on  with  joy.  When  the  work  was  done  they  quietly 
dispersed.  As  the  party  passed  by  a  house  where  Admiral 
Montague  was  visiting,  he  raised  a  window  and  called  out, 
*'  Well,  boys,  you've  had  a  fine  night  for  your  Indian  caper.  But, 
remember,  you've  got  to  pay  the  fiddler  yet."  "  Oh,  never 
mind,"  replied  one  of  the  leaders,  "  never  mind,  squire  !  Just 
come  out  here,  if  you  please,  and  we'll  settle  the  bill  in  two 
minutes."  But  the  Admiral  declined  to  come  out ;  and  to  **  settle 
the  bill "  took  seven  years  of  bloody  war,  thousands  of  lives,  and 
millions  of  money. 


17T4.]  MEETING    OF    THE    CONTINENTAL    CONGRESS.  I43 

The  issue  was  now  fairly  made.  "The  king,  his  ministers, 
parliament,  and  all  Great  Britain  set  themselves  to  subdue  this 
one  stubborn  little  town  on  the  sterile  coast  of  Massachusetts  Bay." 
The  odds  were  terrible.  But  in  resolute  little  Boston  there  were 
a  town  hall,  free  schools,  free  presses,  and  free  pulpits.  There 
was  a  government  of  the  people,  for  the  people,  and  by  the 
people ;  there  were  heroes  who  knew  the  right  and  dared  main- 
tain it ;  there  were  praying  men,  zealous  ministers,  and  conscien- 
tious statesmen.     God  smiled  on  his  own,  and  that  town  was  safe. 

The  English  government  at  once  adopted  retaliatory  measures. 
General  Gage  was  appointed  governor  of  Massachusetts,  with 
orders  to  enforce  new  and  more  coercive  decrees,  virtually 
abrogating  the  charter.  The  port  of  Boston  was  closed  by  act  ^ 
of  parliament.  Great  distress  was  thus  produced  in  the  city,  but 
from  every  side  came  expressions  of  sympathy  and  substantial 
aid.  The  cause  of  Boston  was  made  the  common  cause  of  the 
country.  The  merchants  of  Marblehead  and  Salem,  refusing  to 
profit  by  the  ruin  of  their  rivals,  offered  the  use  of  their  wharves  to 
the  Boston  merchants.  Wyndham,  Conn.,  donated  a  flock  of  two 
hundred  and  fifty  sheep.  Schoharie,  New  York,  forwarded 
five  hundred  and  fifty  bushels  of  wheat.  The  people  of  Georgia 
sent  their  sympathies  from  the  far  south,  accompanied  by  sixty- 
three  barrels  of  rice  and  seven  hundred  and  twenty  dollars  in 
specie. 

The  burgesses  of  Virginia,  then  in  session  at  the  old  capitol 
in  Williamsburg,  learning  the  news  of  the  Boston  Port  Bill,  ap- 
pointed a  fast  day  on  June  ist,  when  it  was  to  go  into  effect. 
The  governor  immediately  dismissed  the  refractory  assembly,  as 
a  schoolmaster  would  a  class  of  unruly  boys, — yet  it  contained 
such  men  as  Henry,  Jefferson,  Lee,  Pendleton,  and  Nicholas. 
Washington  notes  in  his  diary  that  he  observed  that  day  as  a 
rigid  fast,  and  attended  services  at  church.  George  Mason 
charged  his  children  to  go  thither  clad  in  mourning.  The  bur- 
gesses, after  their  dissolution,  immediately  repaired  en  masse  to 
the  famous  ''Apollo  Room"  of  the  Old  Raleigh  Tavern — Vir- 
ginia's Faneuil  Hall  —  less  than  one  hundred  paces  from  the 
capitol.  Here  they  declared  unanimously  that  the  attack  on 
Massachusetts  was  one  upon  all  the  colonies,  and  must  be  re- 
sisted by  their  united  wisdom. 

Committees  of  correspondence  were  now  appointed  by  the 
various  colonies.     This  idea,  acted  upon  first  by  the  Sons  of  Lib- 


144 


ALIENATION    OF    THE    COLONIES. 


[1774. 


CARPENTER  S  HALL. 


erty  in  New  York  city,  became  a  powerful  political  engine  in 
combining  the  colonies  against  England.  A  curious  device,  rep- 
resenting the  colonies  as  parts  of  a 
snake,  with  the  significant  motto, 
"Join  or  die,"  was  extensively 
adopted.  At  the  suggestion  of 
influential  men  and  meetings  in 
all  parts  of  the  country,  delegates 
were  chosen  to  a  general  congress. 
The  first  Continental  Congress 
assembled  at  Carpenter's  Hall, 
Philadelphia,  September  5,  1774. 
Every  colony  but  Georgia  was 
represented.  The  venerable  Pey- 
ton Randolph  was  chosen  presi- 
dent. Fifty-three  delegates  were 
present — among  them  such  men  as 
Samuel  and  John  Adams  of  Mas- 
sachusetts ;  Hopkins  of  Rhode  Island ;  Sherman  and  Deane  of 
Connecticut;  Livingston  and  Jay  of  New  York;  Lee,  Henry, 
Randolph,  and  Washington  of  Virginia ;  Rutledge  and  Gadsden 
of  South  Carolina.  The  first  meeting,  we  are  told,  was  fearfully 
solemn.  All  felt  the  momentous  responsibility  of  the  occasion. 
At  last  the  silence  was  broken  by  the  magic  eloquence  of  Patrick 
Henry.  He  was  followed  by  Richard  Henry  Lee.  It  was 
resolved  that  each  session  should  open  with  prayer — Samuel 
Adams,  though  a  Congregationalist,  moving  that  Rev.  J.  Duch^, 
rector  of  Christ  Church,  Philadelphia,  should  be  invited  to 
officiate. 

Morning  came.  News  had  arrived  of  a  bloody  attack  on 
Boston  by  the  British  troops.  The  regular  psalm  for  that  day 
(seventh)  seemed  providentially  ordered.  The  chaplain  read : 
"  Plead  thou  my  cause,  O  Lord,  with  them  that  strive  with  me, 
and  fight  thou  against  them  that  fight  against  me.  Lay  hand 
upon  the  shield  and  buckler,  and  stand  up  to  help  me.  Bring 
forth  the  spear,  and  stop  the  way  against  them  that  persecute 
me."  "  Lord,  how  long  wilt  thou  look  upon  this?  O  deliver  my 
soul  from  the  calamities  which  they  bring  on  me."  "  Awake  and 
stand  up  to  judge  my  quarrel.  Avenge  thou  my  cause,  my  God 
and  my  Lord.  Judge  me,  O  Lord,  my  God,  according  to  thy 
righteousness  ;   and  let  them  not  triumph  over  me."      After  this, 


1774.]  EXCITEMENT    OF    THE    PEOPLE.  HS 

the  chaplain  unexpectedly  broke  out  into  an  extempore  prayer  so 
full  of  zeal  and  fervor,  for  Congress,  the  country,  and  especially 
for  Boston,  that  the  hearts  of  all  were  thrilled  and  comforted. 

As  yet  few  members  had  any  idea  of  independence.  Congress,, 
however,  voted,  that  obedience  was  not  due  to  any  of  the  recent 
acts  of  parliament,  and  sustained  Massachusetts  in  her  resistance. 
It  issued  a  protest  against  standing  armies  being  kept  in  the 
colonies  without  consent  of  the  people,  and  agreed  to  hold  no 
intercourse  with  Great  Britain,  though  expressing  at  the  same 
time  the  most  devoted  loyalty  to  the  king.  It  also  agreed  not  to 
import  or  purchase  slaves  after  the  first  of  December  ensuing. 

The  country  heaved  like  an  ocean  in  a  storm.  Party  lines 
were  now  sharply  drawn.  Those  opposed  to  the  action  of  the 
British  government  were  termed  Whigs,  and  those  supporting  it 
Tories.  Everywhere  were  repeated  the  thrilling  words  of 
Patrick  Henry  in  the  Virginia  House  of  Burgesses,  **  I  know  not 
what  course  others  may  take,  but  as  for  me,  give  me  liberty  or  give 
me  death."  Companies  of  soldiers,  termed  **  minute-men,"  were 
formed.  To  be  a  private  in  one  of  these  was  an  honor.  Balls 
were  cast,  cartridges  made,  and  military  evolutions  learned. 
Nothing  was  heard,  says  Botta,  but  the  din  of  arms  and  the 
sound  of  fife  and  drums.  Gage,  being  alarmed,  fortified  Boston 
Neck,  and  seized  the  powder  in  the  magazine  at  Charlestown. 
A  rumor  having  been  circulated  that  the  British  ships  were 
firing  on  Boston,  in  two  days  thirty  thousand  minute-men  were 
on  their  way  to  the  city.  A  spark  only  was  needed  to  kindle 
the  slumbering  hatred  into  the  flames  of  war. 


EMGLAND   FORCING  TEA   DOWN  THE  THROAT  OF  AMERICA. 

(From  a  caricature  of  the  time.) 


CHAPTER    II. 

O^EJ^IJ^G    OF    THE    WA(k. 


ENERAL  GAGE,  learning  that 
the  patriots  were  collecting 
stores  and  ammunition  at  Con- 
cord, resolved  to  seize  them. 
On  April  i8th,  about  eleven 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  a  body 
of  eight  hundred  regulars,  under 
the  command  of  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Smith  and  Major  Pit- 
cairn,  secretly  left  Boston,  and 
near  midnight  took  the  road 
for  Concord.  The  moon  shone 
brightly  from  the  clear  sky,  and 
they  moved  on  rapidly.  The  Boston  leaders,  however,  were  on 
the  alert.  From  the  tower  of  the  old  North  Church  streamed  a 
beacon  light ;  while  Paul  Revere  and  William  Dawes,  escaping 
the  guard,  were  already  far  ahead  announcing  their  coming. 
There  was 

"A  hurry  of  hoofs  in  a  village  street, 

A  shape  in  the  moonlight,  a  bulk  in  the  dark, 
And  beneath,  from  the  pebbles,  in  passing,  a  spark 
Struck  out  by  a  steed  flying  fearless  and  fleet." 

Soon  the  distant  ringing  of  bells  and  firing  of  guns  told  the 
troops  that  the  alarm  was  spreading.  When  they  reached  Lex- 
ington at  dawn,  they  found  a  small  company  of  minute-men 
gathering  on  the  village  green.  Riding  up,  Pitcairn  shouted, 
"  Disperse,  you  rebels  !  Lay  down  your  arms !  "  "  Too  few  to 
resist,  too  brave  to  fly,"  they  hesitated.  Discharging  his  pistol,  he 
cried  aloud  to  his  troops,  "  Fire  !  "  It  was  a  murder,  not  a  battle. 
Only  a  few  random  shots  were  returned  by  the  patriots  to  the 
volley  which  followed.     Jonas  Parker  had  sworn  never  to  run 


April  19,-1 
1775.    J 


LEXINGTON    AND    CONCORD. 


147 


from  the  red-coats.  Already  wounded,  he  was  reloading  his  gun 
on  his  knees,  when  a  bayonet  thrust  pierced  his  heart.  Harring- 
ton was  hit  while  standing  in  front  of  his  house.  His  wife  saw 
him  from  the  window,  and  rushed  down  only  to  catch  him  as, 
tottering  forward,  he  expired  in  her  arms.      With  three  huzzas 


PAUL   REVERE   SPREAX)ING   THE   ALARM. 


over  their  valiant  slaughter  of  a  handful  of  villagers,  the  troops 
marched  on,  leaving  behind  them  seven  Americans  lying  on  the 
bloody  grass — the  first  dead  of  the  Revolution. 

Lonely  did  they  look  in  the  still  air  and  the  solemn  hush  that 
fell  on  the  town  after  the  sharp  crack  of  the  rifle  had  died  away ; 
but  they  were  heroes  all,  and,  a  century  later,  we  gaze  back  upon 
Lexington  as  upon  an  altar  of  sacrifice. 

"  Of  man  for  man  the  sacrifice. 

Unstained  by  blood,  save  theirs,  they  gave. 
The  flowers  that  blossomed  from  their  grave 
Have  sown  themselves  beneath  all  skies. 

"  No  seers  were  they,  but  simple  men  ; 
Its  vast  results  the  future  hid  ; 
The  meaning  of  the  work  they  did 
Was  strange  and  dark  and  doubtful  then." 

Elated  by  their  success,  the  English  now  pushed  forward  to 
Concord  and  destroyed  what  stores  they  could  find  at  that  place. 
Major  Pitcairn,  who  was  given  to  bluster  as  well  as  profanity, 
entered  the  village  tavern  and  poured  out  a  glass  of  brandy, 
which  he  sweetened  to  his  taste,  but  not  finding  a  spoon  to  stir 


148 


OPENING    OF    THE    WAR. 


TApril  19, 

L  T775. 


it,  mixed  it  with  his  fingers  ;  at  the  same  time  saying  in  bluff 
soldier  fashion  that  "just  so  he  would  stir  up  the  blood  of  the 
Yankees  before  the  day  was  over."  Meantime  the  militia  were 
gathering  fast  on  the  neighboring  hills,  and  even  ventured  to 
sharply  return  a  volley  from  the  British  pickets  at  the  Concord 
Bridge,  where 

"The  embattled  farmers  stood 
And  fired  the  shot  heard  round  the  world." 


bosto:n.oo)  concord 


The  grenadiers  ran  in  confusion.      The  example  was  contagious^ 
and  Smith  decided  to  return.    It  was  high  time.    The  whole  region 

was  in  arms.  Every  boy 
old  enough  to  grasp  a 
musket  and  a  powder- 
horn  hurried  to  avenge 
his  fellows.  The  gray- 
haired  men  hobbled  on 
as  best  they  could  to 
get  a  shot  at  the  ene- 
mies of  their  country. 
An  old  hoary-headed 
man  of  Woburn  figures 
in  the  stories  of  the 
time,  who  rode  a  fine 
white  horse  after  the 
flying  troops,  and,  dismounting  within  gunshot,  would  send  his 
sure  bullet  to  the  mark.  When  he  fired  some  one  fell.  They 
came  to  cry,  at  sight  of  him,  "  Look  out,  there  is  the  man  on  the 
white  horse."  Every  bush,  tree,  stone  wall,  and  building  con- 
cealed a  patriot,  who  blazed  away  at  the  red-coats  as  they  passed, 
firing,  loading  quickly,  and  then  running  ahead  across  the  fields 
to  catch  another  shot ;  fresh  allies  on  either  flank  streamed  in  by 
every  cross-road  ;  and  between  them  all  the  British,  no  longer  in 
ranks,  were  flying  like  sheep  along  the  same  road  by  which  they 
had  come,  afraid  of  the  storm  they  had  aroused.  The  whole 
body  would  have  been  captured  had  they  not  met  Lord  Percy 
with  reinforcements  near  Lexington.  He  formed  a  hollow  square 
to  receive  the  breathless  fugitives,  who  rushed  forward  with 
*'  tongues  hanging  out  of  their  mouths,  like  those  of  dogs  after  a 
chase."  Even  now  there  was  danger.  The  woods  were  swarm- 
ing  with  ''  rebels."      The  cannon  Percy  had  brought  with  him 


April  19,1 
1775.    J 


LEXINGTON    AND    CONCORD. 


149 


scarcely  kept  the  Americans  at  bay.  It  was  with  the  greatest 
difficulty  that  he  at  last  escaped  under  the  guns  of  the  fleet  off 
Charlestown. 

During  that  eventful  day  the  English  had  lost  about  two 
hundred  and  eighty,  and  the  Continentals  one-third  that  num- 
ber. Percy's  men,  enraged  at  their  losses,  plundered  houses, 
destroyed  furniture,  and  fired  buildings  on  their  route,  driving 
the  sick  from  their  beds  and  killing  the  infirm.  In  one  place,  a 
boy  had  taken  refuge  under  his  mother's  bed ;  a  soldier,  seeing 
the  little  fellow's  foot  projecting,  barbarously  pinned  it  to  the 
floor  with  his  bayonet.     The  young  hero  never  groaned. 

The  effect  of  this  day's  work  was  electrical.  The  news  that 
American  blood  had  been  spilled  flew  like  wildfire.  Patriots 
came  pouring  in  from  all  sides.  General  Putnam,  "  Old  Put,"  as 
he  was  familiarly  called,  already  famous  for  his  exploit  in  the 


PUTNAM  STARTING  FOR  CAMBRIDGE. 


wolf's  den  and  other  equally  daring  deeds,  left  his  cattle  yoked  in 
the  field,  and  without  changing  the  checked  shirt  he  had  on, 
mounted  his  fastest  horse,  and  the  next  morning  was  at  Cam- 
bridge, having  ridden  one  hundred  miles  in  eighteen  hours. 
Soon  twenty  thousand  men  were  at  work  throwing  up  entrench- 
ments to  fasten  the  British  in  the  city.     Congresses  were  formed 


ISO 


OPENING    OF    THE    WAR. 


rMay  la 
L   1775. 


in  all  the  colonies,  and  committees  of  safet)^  were  appointed  to 
call  out  the  troops,  and  to  provide  for  any  emergency. 

Meanwhile  Connecticut  resolved  to  strike  a  blow  for  the  good 
cause.  An  expedition  was  accordingly  fitted  out  under  Ethan 
Allen,  a  noted  leader  of  the  "  Green  Mountain  Boys,"  and  Bene- 
diet  Arnold,  to  seize  the  forts  of  Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point. 
Troops  were  hastily  gathered,  and  the  march  began.  Late  on  the 
night  of  May  9th  they  reached  the  shore  of  the  lake.  Only  a  few 
boats  could  be  secured,  and  at  daybreak  only  eighty-three  men 
had  crossed.  No  time  was  to  be  lost  if  a  surprise  was  to  be 
effected.  With  this  little  band,  Allen  marched  directly  upon  a 
fortress  that  mounted  one  hundred  guns — himself  leading  the  at- 


ETHAN   ALLAN   AT   TICONDEROGA. 


tack,  with  Arnold  emulously  at  his  side.  As  Allen  rushed  into 
the  sally-port,  a  sentinel  snapped  his  gun  at  him  and  fled.  The 
Green  Mountain  Boys  quickly  formed  upon  the  parade-ground  in 
hollow  square,  facing  each  way  toward  the  barracks,  and  raised 
the  Indian  whoop.  ''  It  was  a  cry,"  says  Bancroft, ''  that  had  not 
been  heard  there  since  the  time  of  Montcalm."  Rapidly  making 
his  way  to  the  commander's  quarters,  Allen,  in  a  voice  of  thunder, 
ordered  him  to  surrender.  "  By  whose  authority  ?"  exclaimed  the 
frightened  officer.  "  In  the  name  of  the  Great  Jehovah  and  the 
Continental  Congress ! "  shouted  Allen.     No  resistance  was  at- 


^Tns^']  CAPTURE    OF    TICONDEROGA.  151 

tempted.  Large  stores  of  cannon  and  ammunition,  just  then  so 
much  needed  by  the  troops  at  Boston,  fell  into  the  hands  of  the 
Americans  without  the  loss  of  a  single  man.  A  detachment  was 
sent  off  under  Colonel  Seth  Warner  to  take  Crown  Point,  and  that 
fort  surrendered  at  the  first  summons. 

A  few  hours  after  the  capture  of  Ticonderoga,  the  second  Con- 
tinental Congress  met  at  Philadelphia.  It  voted  to  raise  twenty 
thousand  men,  and  to  issue  three  million  dollars  in  paper  money. 
John  Adams,  after  a  powerful  speech  setting  forth  the  qualities 
requisite  for  the  commander-in-chief  of  the  army,  suddenly  nomi- 
nated George  Washington,  then  present  as  delegate  from  Virginia, 
for  that  high  office.  All  were  surprised,  as  he  had  informed  no 
one  of  his  intention,  but  the  members  unanimously  approved  the 
choice.  Artemas  Ward,  Charles  Lee,  Philip  Schuyler,  and  Israel 
Putnam  were  appointed  major-generals ;  Seth  Pomeroy,  Richard 
Montgomery,  David  Wooster,  William  Heath,  Joseph  Spencer, 
John  Thomas,  John  SuUivan,  and  Nathaniel  Greene,  brigadiers ; 
Horatio  Gates  was  made  adjutant-general,  with  the  rank  of  briga- 
dier. Strange  to  say,  there  were  still  hopes  of  a  reconciliation, 
and  committees  were  appointed  to  petition  the  king  and  to  ad- 
dress the  people  of  England. 

Gage  had  now  received  heavy  reinforcements  under  experi- 
enced generals,  Clinton,  Burgoyne,  and  Howe.  Thus  encour- 
aged, he  declared  martial  law,  but  offered  pardon  to  all  rebels 
who  should  lay  down  their  arms,  excluding,  however,  Samuel 
Adams  and  Hancock,  whose  crimes  were  so  great  that  they  were 
to  be  taken  to  England  and  reserved  for  more  condign  punish- 
ment. The  English  were  now  determined,  as  Burgoyne  expressed 
it,  to  get  *'  elbow  room,"  and  they  had  already  resolved  to  fortify 
Dorchester  Heights  and  Bunker  Hill,  which  overlooked  the  city, 
on  the  1 8th  of  June.  This  becoming  known  in  the  patriot  camp, 
it  was  decided  to  anticipate  them ;  and  General  Ward,  who  was 
then  at  the  head  of  the  besieging  forces,  ordered  Colonel  Prescott, 
with  one  thousand  men,  to  occupy  Bunker  Hill.  On  the  night 
of  June  1 6th  the  troops  assembled  at  Cambridge,  whence,  after 
prayer  by  President  Langdon  of  Harvard  College,  they  noise- 
lessly marched  to  Breed's  Hill,  which  they  had  decided  to  be  a 
more  commanding  position.  It  was  bright  moonlight,  and  they 
were  so  near  the  enemy  that  they  could  distinctly  hear  the  "All's 
well"  of  the  sentinels  at  the  foot  of  Copp's  Hill ;  yet  so  quietly  did 
they  work  that  there  was  no  alarm.     Before  morning  they  had 


152 


OPENING    OF    THE    WAR. 


rJune  17, 
L    1775. 


thrown  up  a  redoubt  eight  rods  square  and  six  feet  high.  At 
dawn,  a  watchman  on  one  of  the  ships  discovered  the  earthwork. 
Fire  was  at  once  opened,  in  which  soon  after  all  the  shipping  and 
a  battery  on  Copp's  Hill  joined.  Under  the  raining  bombs  and 
balls  the  Americans  toiled  on,  strengthening  the  work  already 


THE  PRAYBR  BEFORE  THE  BATTLE  OF  BUNKER  HILL. 


thrown  up,  and  also  running  a  breastwork  north  about  twenty 
rods  down  the  hill.  A  soldier  who  had  ventured  outside  being 
killed  by  a  cannon-ball,  some  panic-stricken  ones  fled.  Colonel 
Prescott,  although  his  tall,  commanding  form  rendered  him  a  con- 
spicuous mark,  sought  to  reassure  his  men  by  leisurely  making  a 
tour  upon  the  parapet.  General  Gage,  in  Boston,  was  standing 
near  Counsellor  Willard,  Prescott's  brother-in-law,  inspecting  the 
works  through  a  glass.  "  Who  is  that  ?"  he  demanded.  "  That  is 
Colonel  Prescott,"  was  the  reply.  "  Will  he  fight?"  was  the  next 
question.  "  Yes,  sir,"  said  Willard ;  **  he  will  fight  as  long  as  a 
drop  of  blood  remains  in  his  veins."  "  The  works  must  be  carried 
immediately,"  was  the  quick  response,  and  the  British  general 
turned  to  give  the  orders. 

The  English  commander  might  have  occupied  the  neck  of  the 
peninsula  and  cut  off  the  entire  American   forces.      Instead,  he 


June  17, -| 
!775.    J 


BATTLE    OF    BUNKER    HILL. 


153 


landed  at  Morton's  Point  with  about  two  thousand  men,  intending 
to  march  along  the  Mystic  river  and  thus  outflank  the  American 
line.  Prescott  sent  a  Connecticut  regiment  to  check  this  move- 
ment. They  took  post  behind  a  low  stone  wall  and  rail  fence,  in 
front  of  which  they  placed  a  second  fence,  filling  the  space  between 
with  new-mown  hay.  The  artillery  was  stationed  in  the  gap 
between  the  rail  fence  and  breastwork.  Ward,  fearing  an  attack 
at  Cambridge,  refused  to  send  reinforcements,  but  patriots  singly 
and  in  squads  dared  the  passage  of  the  Charlestown  peninsula, 
now  raked  by  the  enemy's  fire,  and  came  to  the  aid  of  their 
countrymen.  Pomeroy,  an  old  man  of  seventy,  leaving  his 
horse,  which  was  a  borrowed  one,  lest  it  m^ight  be  killed  on  the 
way,  shouldered  a  musket,  and  came  on  foot  into  the  lines.  Dr. 
Warren,  who  had  just  received  his  commission  as  major-general, 
reached  the  redoubt  and  served  as  a  volunteer.  §tark  and  his 
New  Hampshire  men  took  post  with  the  Connecticut  regiment, 
rapidly  extending  their  line  down  to  the  river.  Prescott  sent  back 
the  entrenching 
tools  to  General 
Putnam,  who  was 
planning  to  fortify 
Bunker  Hill,  but 
the  tired  men  who 
carried  them  took 
advantage  of  the 
opportunity  and 
ran  to  the  rear. 

Howe,  seeing 
the  strength  of 
the  American 
position,  prudent- 
ly waited  for  rein- 
forcements.      On 

their  arrival,  he  formed  his  men.  It  was  a  moment  of  terrible  sus- 
pense. The  neighboring  hills,  the  streets  and  roofs  of  Boston  were 
crowded  with  anxious  spectators.  On  the  one  side  were  fifteen 
hundred  undisciplined  yeomen,  weary  with  their  night's  labor, 
hungry  and  thirsty,  under  a  leader  of  no  acknowledged  reputation  ; 
on  the  other,  three  thousand  picked  troops,  richly  uniformed  and 
equipped  ;  officers  and  men  who  had  won  victories  on  many  of  the 
famous  battlefields  of  Europe.     The  British  slowly  ascended  the 


BATTLE  OF 
BUNKER  HILL 


54 


OPENING    OF    THE    WAR. 


/"June  17. 
L     1775. 


hill,  breaking  their  ranks  only  to  throw  down  the  fences  and  to 
pass  the  obstructions  which  lay  in  their  way.  As  they  drew  near 
they  opened  a  heavy  fire,  while  all  the  time  ships  and  floating  bat- 
teries never  ceased  raining  shot  and  shell  upon  the  patriot  lines. 
Prescott  had  instructed  his  men  to  wait  until  they  could  ^'  see 
the  whites  of  their  enemies'  eyes  "  before  firing,  and  then  "  aim 
at  their  waistbands."     The  patriot  ranks  lay  quietly  behind  their 


earthworks  until  the  British 
were  within  ten  rods,  every 
piece  sighted  and  pointed  at 
its   victim.      Suddenly   Pres- 
cott, waving  his  sword,  shout- 
ed, ''  Fire  /  "     A  blaze  of  light 
shot  from  the  whole  line  ;  soon 
another;    and    then    another. 
Entire    platoons   went   down 
before     the     terrible     storm. 
The  survivors,  unwilling  to  fly,  stood  among  the   dead,  bewil- 
dered, paralyzed,  by  the  shock.     At  last,  the  bugles  sounded  the 
recall  and  they  fell  back  to  the  shore. 

After  a  brief  delay,  Howe  rallied  his  men  and  advanced  a 
second  time  under  cover  of  the  smoke  of  Charlestown,  which  had 
been  fired  by  his  orders.  Again  they  met  that  deadly  discharge 
and  again  recoiled  in  dismav- 


THE  BAYONET  CHARGE  AT  BUNKER  HILL. 


Juny^^s!']  BATTLE  OF  BUNKER  HILL.  1 55 

Clinton  came  with  reinforcements  from  Boston,  and  a  third 
attempt  was  now  made.  The  British  soldiers  threw  off  their 
knapsacks  and  moved  at  the  quickstep,  with  orders  to  use  the 
bayonet  only.  The  artillery  was  brought  to  bear  on  the  fatal  gap 
between  the  breastwork  and  the  rail  fence.  The  defenders  of  the 
former  were  quickly  driven  into  the  redoubt.  This  was  attacked 
on  three  sides  at  once.  The  ammunition  was  scarce  in  the 
American  ranks.  Only  one  volley  smote  the  British  ;  the  head 
of  their  column  was  torn  in  pieces,  but  the  main  body  poured 
over  the  ramparts,  driving  all  before  it.  Even  yet  the  patriots 
sturdily  resisted  ;  most,  having  no  bayonets,  clubbed  their  mus- 
kets and  disputed  every  inch.  As  a  sample  of  the  spirit  of  the 
day,  one  Salmon  Steele  is  quoted,  who,  as  he  was  leaving  the 
redoubt,  stumbled  over  a  dead  British  soldier.  On  opening  his 
enemy's  cartridge-box  and  finding  only  one  round  was  used,  he 
strapped  the  box  to  his  side,  and  fired  the  remaining  ammunition 
with  deadly  aim  before  he  left  the  field.  Saddest  of  all  that  day's 
losses,  Warren  was  shot  by  a  British  officer  who  knew  him,  as  he 
was  trying  to  rally  his  men.  Stark,  at  the  rail  fence,  when  he 
saw  the  redoubt  taken,  sullenly  retired.  The  British  regi- 
ments, wounded  and  shattered,  were  unable  to  continue  the 
pursuit.  Putnam,  collecting  the  fugitives,  held  Prospect  Hill, 
scarce  a  mile  in  the  rear  of  the  battle-field.  The  English  had  lost 
over  a  thousand  men,  the  Americans  but  four  hundred  and  fifty. 
Sorrowful  was  the  sight  the  sun  beheld  as  it  sank  to  rest.  Where 
but  the  day  before  the  mower  had  quietly  swung  the  scythe,  the 
dead  now  lay  *'  thick  as  sheep  in  the  fold." 

The  effect  of  this  battle  upon  the  patriot  cause  was  that  of  a 
victory.  It  had  been  proven  that  American  farmers  could  stand 
firmly  before  the  muskets  of  British  regulars.  The  struggle  for 
liberty  might  be  a  severe  one,  but  there  was  a  chance  for  suc- 
cess. "  Americans  will  fight,"  Franklin  wrote  ;  ''  England  has 
lost  her  colonies  forever."  "  Did  the  militia  stand  fire  ?  "  inquired 
Washington.  When  he  learned  that  they  not  only  did  that,  but 
withheld  their  own  until  the  British  were  within  ten  rods,  he 
exclaimed,  **  The  liberties  of  the  country  are  safe."  From  ridi- 
cule of  American  pretension,  the  British  were  suddenly  startled 
into  respect  for  American  valor.  The  troops  who  expected  to 
crush  the  "  impudent  rebels  "  in  one  easy  charge,  now  boasted  of 
their  courage  in  advancing  against  so  murderous  a  foe,  and  took 
credit  for  a  bravery  to  which,  it  was  averred,  ''  no  history  could 


156  OPENING    OF    THE    WAR.  [J'^'jfs^' 

produce  a  parallel."  The  colonists  had  at  least  compelled  an 
acknowledgment  of  their  claim  to  a  decent  regard. 

News  of  the  fight  at  Bunker  Hill  reached  Philadelphia  on  the 
22d.  The  next  day  Washington  set  out  for  Cambridge  to  take 
command  of  the  army.  On  Monday,  July  3,  beneath  the  spread- 
ing elm  since  so  famous  in  song  and  story,  he  formally  assumed  the 
command.  Washington  is  described  at  this  time  as  a  tall,  finely- 
proportioned,  dignified  man,  with  a  strikingly  noble  and  com- 
manding air.  Mrs.  Adams,  who  was  present,  wrote  thus  to  her 
husband :  **  Those  lines  of  Dry  den  instantly  recurred  to  me : 

•  Mark  his  majestic  fabric  !     His  a  temple 
Sacred  by  birth,  and  built  by  hands  divine ; 
His  soul's  the  Deity  that  lodges  there; 
Nor  is  the  pile  unworthy  of  the  God.' " 

According  to  the  fashion  of  his  time,  he  was  dressed  in  a  blue 
broadcloth  coat  faced  with  buff,  buff  small-clothes,  silk  stockings, 
shoulder  epaulettes,  and  a  cocked  hat.  As  he  wheeled  his  horse 
and  drew  his  sword,  a  shout  of  enthusiasm  went  up  from  the 
assembled  multitude. 

He  found  the  army  numbering  about  fourteen  thousand.  It 
was  an  army,  however,  only  in  name.  In  fact,  it  was  merely  an 
immense  "  gathering  of  neighbors,  schoolmates,  and  friends," 
each  with  his  own  musket,  powder-horn,  and  bag  of  bullets,  and 
only  such  provisions  as  he  had  brought  with  him  or  as  were 
sent  into  camp  by  his  friends  and  others.  Some  of  these  had 
left  home  on  the  impulse  of  excitement,  and  already  wearied  of 
the  monotony  and  peril  of  war.  There  were  bitter  jealousies 
growing  out  of  the  appointment  of  the  higher  officers  by  Con- 
gress. Many  of  the  inferior  officers  were  grossly  inefficient, 
insubordinate,  and  over-confident.  Few  of  the  companies  were 
disciplined  or  uniformed.  Powder  was  so  scarce  that  there  was 
only  enough  to  furnish  nine  cartridges  to  each  man.  "  Our  situa- 
tion in  the  article  of  powder  is  much  more  alarming  than  I  had 
the  faintest  idea  of,"  wrote  Washington  to  Congress.  Reed, 
Washington's  secretary,  reported  that  "  almost  the  whole  powder 
of  the  army  was  in  the  cartridge-boxes."  "  The  bay  is  open  : 
everything  thaws  here,  except  Old  Put,"  facetiously  wrote 
another ;  "  he  is  still  as  hard  as  ever,  crying  out  for  '  Powder, 
powder !  Ye  gods,  give  us  powder  ! '  "  Washington  immedi- 
ately  set  about  organizing  the  troops  and    reforming    abuses, 


July^toOct..j  SIEGE    OF    BOSTON.  1 57 

meanwhile  strengthening  their  position  against  any  attempt  of 
Gage  to  break  out  of  Boston.  Fortunately,  such  was  the  dis- 
couragement of  the  British  leader  that  he  never  ventured  even  to 
make  a  sally.  The  provincial  lines  were  nearly  nine  miles  in 
length.  Washington  himself  took  command  of  the  centre,  Gen- 
eral Ward  of  the  right  wing,  and  General  Charles  Lee,  a  former 
British  officer  who  had  espoused  the  patriot  cause,  of  the  left. 

The  first  troops  raised  under  the  order  of  Congress  were  the 
Virginia  riflemen.  In  less  than  sixty  days,  says  Bancroft,  twelve 
companies  were  in  Washington's  camp,  having  come  on  foot  from 
four  to  eight  hundred  miles.  The  men,  painted  in  the  guise  of 
savages,  were  strong  and  of  great  endurance ;  many  of  them 
more  than  six  feet  high  ;  they  wore  leggins  and  moccasins,  and 
an  ash-colored  hunting-shirt  with  a  double  cape ;  each  one 
carried  a  rifle,  a  hatchet,  a  small  axe,  and  a  hunter's  knife.  They 
could  subsist  on  a  little  parched  corn  and  game  killed  as  they 
went  along ;  at  night,  wrapped  in  their  blankets,  they  willingly 
made  a  tree  their  canopy,  the  earth  their  bed.  The  rifle  in  their 
hands  sent  its  ball  with  unerring  precision  a  distance  of  two  or 
three  hundred  yards.  Their  motto  was,  "  Liberty  or  Death." 
Newspapers  of  the  day  relate  how  they  offered  to  shoot  apples 
off"  one  another's  heads  in  true  William  Tell  style ;  how  one  man 
at  sixty  paces  put  eight  balls  through  a  paper  the  size  of  a  dollar ; 
and  another  stuck  his  knife  into  a  tree,  and  firing,  halved  his 
bullet  upon  the  edge. 

During  the  summer  and  fall  there  was  constant  skirmishing 
around  Boston.  Transports  bearing  stores  to  the  beleaguered 
troops  were  seized.  Parties  gathering  hay  and  other  supplies  on 
the  islands  in  the  bay  were  attacked  in  the  boldest  manner.  The 
English  ships  along  the  coast  began  a  predatory  warfare  which 
did  little  harm,  but  bitterly  exasperated  the  people.  On  Octo- 
ber 1 6,  Captain  Mow^att  burned  the  town  of  Falmouth,  now 
Portland,  declaring  that  he  had  orders  to  destroy  every  seaport 
between  Boston  and  Halifax. 

While  all  these  stirring  events  were  transpiring  around  Bos- 
ton, the  cause  of  liberty  was  kindling  into  life  in  the  other 
colonies.  In  April,  Dunmore,  the  detested  governor  of  Virginia, 
imitating  the  action  of  Gage  of  Massachusetts,  seized  the  powder 
in  the  magazine  at  Williamsburg.  This  overt  act  aroused 
general  indignation.  Patrick  Henry  headed  the  people  in  a  call 
upon  the  governor,  and  they  did  not  come  away  until  he  had 


IS8 


OPENING    OF    THE    WAR. 


c*'!?;!.'' 


promised  to  pay  for  the  powder.  The  amount  given,  fifteen 
hundred  dollars,  was  afterward  found  to  be  too  large,  and  the 
balance  was  returned  to  Dunmore.  The  governor,  alarmed  by 
the  situation  of  affairs,  fortified  his  residence  and  issued  a  procla- 
mation against  Henry 
and  his  compatriots. 
Some  letters  of  the 
governor's,  grossly  mis- 
representing the  colo- 
nists, were  afterward 
intercepted,  and  these 
adding  fuel  to  the  flame, 
he  was  forced  to  take 
refuge  on  board  a  royal 
vessel.  From  this  asy- 
lum he  valiantly  de- 
clared martial  law,  and 
called  upon  the  slaves 
to  leave  their  masters 
and  help  him  in  his 
emergency.  He  thus 
gathered  at  Norfolk  a 
small  force  of  blacks  and  royalists.  November  28,  the  Vir- 
ginia militia  came  over  to  Great  Bridge,  where  they  threw 
up  a  fortification  opposite  the  British  fort  built  to  defend  the 
approach  to  Norfolk.  A  few  days  after,  Dunmore,  with  the 
seamen  from  the  ships  and  a  mixed  crowd  of  royalists  and 
negroes,  came  out  to  drive  them  from  their  position.  The 
negroes  and  loyalists  stood  at  a  safe  distance,  while  the  regulars 
bravely  charged  down  the  narrow  causeway,  one  hundred  and 
sixty  yards  long,  at  the  end  of  which  was  the  entrenchment. 
The  fire  of  the  sharpshooters  was  terrific.  The  British  leader, 
Fordyce,  fell,  struck  by  fourteen  balls.  The  rest  fled,  leaving 
half  their  number  behind.  The  Virginians  lost  not  a  man,  and 
only  one  received  a  slight  wound.  After  the  firing  ceased,  they 
hastened  to  bring  in  their  wounded  foes  who  might  need  the 
surgeon's  aid.  So  little  did  the  British  understand  their  generous 
sympathy,  that  the  sufferers  shrank  from  their  approach,  expect- 
ing the  tomahawk  or  the  scalping-knife.  "  For  God's  sake,"  cried 
one,  "  don't  murder  us."  "  Put  your  arm  about  my  neck,"  was 
the   quiet  reply,  and   the  sturdy    Virginian,  who  had  just  laid 


THE   OLD   MAGAZINE   AT   WILLIAMSBURG. 


*^,«^y5!']  EVENTS    IN    THE    SOUTH.  1 59 

down  his  rifle,  tenderly  supported  his  wounded  enemy  to  the 
breastworks.  Captain  Leslie,  who  commanded  the  negroes  and 
tories,  was  so  touched  by  the  gentle  act,  that  he  stepped  upon  the 
platform  of  the  fort  and  bowed  his  respectful  thanks  to  the 
"  shirtmen,"  whose  hearts  were  as  kind  as  their  souls  were  brave. 
Th-e  next  night  the  British  abandoned  the  fort  and  fled  to  the 
protection  of  their  ships. 

On  New  Year's  day,  1776,  Dunmore  landed  troops  which  set 
fire  to  Norfolk,  the  richest  town  in  Virginia.  Finally,  abandoning 
the  Old  Dominion,  he  sailed  with  his  followers  for  the  West 
Indies.  Though  largely  monarchical  in  feeling  and  Episcopal  in 
worship,  Virginia  had  already  given  a  leader  to  the  Democratic 
and  Presbyterian  army  that  beleaguered  Boston.  By  this  last  act 
her  alienation  from  the  crown  was  made  complete. 

In  New  England  the  feeling  against  the  British  aggressions,  as 
we  have  seen,  was  strong  from  the  very  first.  This  was  natural, 
^ince  the  rigor  of  the  English  laws  pressed  most  heavily  upon 
that  part  of  the  country.  ''  Here,"  says  Sabine,  "  were  the 
Roundheads,  who  met  England  in  the  workshops  and  on  the 
ocean."  Adams,  in  sight  of  the  ashes  of  Charlestown  and  the 
trenches  of  Bunker  Hill,  wrote  that  Congress  should  at  once 
adopt  a  constitution  and  provide  for  defence.  His  letters  were 
published  by  the  royalists  in  the  expectation  that  they  would 
destroy  his  reputation  and  influence  among  the  people. 

In  the  Middle  and  Southern  States  the  feeling  was  far  from 
unanimous.  Tories  were  thick  in  Maryland,  Pennsylvania,  South 
Carolina,  and  Georgia.  New  York  was  a  stronghold  of  the 
royalists,  and  it  was  long  doubtful  which  way  the  assembly  would 
eventually  go.  In  Queens  county  the  inhabitants,  by  a  vote  of 
more  than  three  to  one,  refused  to  send  delegates  to  the  Provin- 
cial Congress.  The  Delanceys  and  Phillipses  in  Westchester, 
staunch  friends  of  the  king  and  vast  land-holders,  so  influenced 
their  numerous  tenantry,  that  all  the  patriotism  of  Van  Court- 
landt  and  of  Morris  of  Morrisania  could  only  hold  a  nearly  equal 
balance. 

While  Washington  was  en  route  for  the  camp  at  Boston,  a 
complication  arose  at  New  York  which  curiously  illustrates  the 
condition  of  affairs  and  the  indecision  of  many  of  the  people.  "  At 
the  same  time  with  his  arrival,"  says  Sparks,  "■  news  had  come 
that  Governor  Tryon  was  in  the  harbor,  just  arrived  from  Eng- 
land, and  would  land  that  day.      The  Provincial  Congress  were 


l6o  OPENING    OF    THE    WAR.  l^n^i^' 

a  good  deal  embarrassed  to  determine  how  to  act  on  this  occa- 
sion ;  for  though  they  had  thrown  off  all  allegiance  to  the 
authority  of  their  governor,  they  yet  professed  to  maintain 
loyalty  to  his  person.  They  finally  ordered  a  colonel  to  so  dis- 
pose of  his  militia  as  to  be  ready  to  receive  '  eit/ier  the  General  or 
Governor  Tryon,  whichever  should  first  arrive^  and  wait  on  both  as 
well  as  circumstances  would  allow'  " 

As  New  York  city  was  exposed  to  a  bombardment  from  the 
English  vessels,  the  merchants  were  often  exceeding  timid,  even 
when  their  sympathies  were  with  the  patriots.  Governor  Tryon 
had  announced  that  Lord  Dartmoor,  in  command  of  the  fleet,  had 
orders  to  consider  and  treat  any  city  taking  a  decisive  part,  as  in 
open  rebellion.  The  utmost  zeal  of  the  whigs  for  a  long  time 
made  little  head  against  the  fears  of  some  and  the  opposition  of 
others.  A  committee  of  public  safety,  however,  had  been  ap- 
pointed. The  tories  did  all  they  could  to  embarrass  any  action, 
and  to  furnish  the  British  ships  in  the  bay  with  information  and 
provisions.  At  last.  Congress  having  recommended  the  arrest  of 
any  person  whose  going  at  large  was  likely  to  endanger  the  safety 
of  the  colonies,  Governor  Tryon  took  alarm  and  went  on  board  a 
vessel.  Here  he  was  in  constant  intercourse  with  the  tories,  and 
encouraged  every  movement  of  hostility  to  the  patriot  cause. 

The  course  of  Pennsylvania  was  undecided,  since,  besides  its 
royalist  population,  it  was  a  Quaker  colony,  and  the  religious 
principles  of  the  people  forbade  any  forcible  resistance  to  the 
tyranny  of  their  rulers.  While  the  precipitate  action  of  Gage 
and  Dunmore  hurried  the  colonies  under  their  immediate 
authority  into  rebellion,  the  governors  of  Pennsylvania,  New 
Jersey,  Delaware,  and  Maryland  were  prudent  and  wisely 
watched  the  progress  of  affairs.  Hence  in  these  colonies  there 
was  little  disturbance,  and  the  people  quietly  waited  the  action  of 
the  British  government. 

North  Carolina  was  largely  whig  from  the  start.  The  regu- 
lators of  that  State  were  the  first  to  take  up  arms  to  secure  their 
rights.  As  early  as  May,  1775,  the  patriots  of  Mecklenburg 
county  met  at  Charlotte  and  declared  their  allegiance  to  king  and 
parliament  forever  ended.  The  Mecklenburg  Declaration  was 
issued  fourteen  months  before  the  Colonial  Congress  met  in  Phil- 
adelphia and  the  old  State-house  bell  rang  out  liberty  to  all  the 
land.  In  South  Carolina,  on  the  other  hand,  the  royalists  were 
numerous,  active,  and  probably  in  the  majority.     The  income  of 


July4, 


i'Js"'] 


THE    FEELING    TOWARD    ENGLAND. 


l6l 


the  planters  and  the  commerce  of  Charleston  itself  rested  upon 
raw  products  raised  and  shipped  to  England.  The  ties  of 
interest,  business,  and  friendly  relationship  all  bound  the  princi- 
pal men  to  the  mother  country.  War  would  sunder  these  at 
once.  Yet  the  patriots  of  this  colony,  which  had  so  much  at 
stake,  perilled  all,  drove  off  the  royal  governor,  fortified  Charles- 
ton, and  took  their  government  in  their  own  hands. 

Georgia  was  also  friendly  to  parliament,  and,  indeed,  was  not 
represented  in  the  Continental  Congress  until  the  second  session, 
delegates  being  elected  July  4,  1775. 

In  looking  back  upon  it  now,  the  action  of  Congress  seems  to 
us  to  have  been  timid  and  uncertain.  It  had  forwarded  a  second 
petition  to  the  British  government,  and  the  majority  still  fondly 
dreamed  of  reconciliation  with  England.  At  the  most,  said  they^ 
a  single  campaign  will  show  the  king  the  folly  of  coercion.  The 
truth  is,  the  colonists  yet  clung  to  their  English  traditions  with 
wonderful  tenacity.  They  earnestly 
desired  a  settlement  of  their  diffi- 
culties, and  a  restoration  to  their 
old  situation.  They  hoped  only  for 
a  redress  of  certain  grievances,  and 
then  all  would  be  well.  Jefferson 
afterward  wrote  that  the  "  possibil- 
ity of  a  separation  from  England 
was  contemplated  with  affliction  by 
all."  Washington  said,  "  When  I 
first  took  command  of  the  army,  I 

abhorred  the  idea  of  independence ;"  and  John  Adams  even,  the 
very  palladium  of  American  independence,  declared  that  ^'  there 
was  not  a  moment  during  the  Revolution  when  I  would  not  have 
given  everything  I  possessed  for  a  restoration  to  the  state  of  things 
before  the  contest  began,  provided  we  could  have  a  sufficient 
guaranty  for  its  continuance."  Dickinson,  from  the  beginning 
the  patriot  leader  of  Pennsylvania,  opposed  the  Declaration  of 
Independence  in  1776  to  the  very  last.  Under  these  circum- 
stances. Congress  was  timorous.  Franklin's  plan  of  a  confedera- 
tion, considered  twenty-one  years  before,  in  Albany,  was  brought 
out  again,  but  laid  aside.  Troops  were  enlisted  only  until  an 
answer  could  be  expected  from  the  petition.  A  third  million 
dollars  in  paper  was  ordered  to  be  printed ;  but  Congress  had 
no  power  to  lay  taxes  of  any  kind  ;  while  commerce  was  dead,  and 
II 


CONTINENTAL   MONEY. 


1 62  OPENING    OF    THE    WAR.  [1775. 

there  were  no  imports.  Promises  of  thirteen  colonies,  distracted 
by  war  and  internal  dissension,  to  pay  at  some  indefinite  time, 
were  sure  to  depreciate  from  the  beginning.  It  seemed  the  best, 
however,  that  could  be  done. 

Meanwhile  the  British  government  was  straining  every  nerve 
to  recruit  its  armies  in  America.  British  emissaries  were  busy 
among  the  Five  Nations  of  central  New  York  and  the  savage 
Indians  of  Canada,  urging  them  to  take  up  arms  against  the  colo- 
nists. The  "  Olive  Branch,"  as  the  petition  to  the  king  was  styled, 
was  rejected.  Trade  with  the  colonies  was  forbidden.  American 
vessels,  and  all  others  found  trading  in  American  ports,  with 
their  cargoes,  were  liable  to  seizure,  and  the  crews  to  be  treated 
as  slaves.  Treaties  were  made  with  certain  German  princes, 
who  promised  to  furnish  seventeen  thousand  men  for  the  Amer- 
ican war  at  thirty-six  dollars  per  head.  The  Landgrave  of  Hesse- 
Cassel  sent  the  largest  number,  hence  these  mercenaries  were 
called  Hessians. 

The  obstinacy  of  the  king,  the  refusal  even  to  hear  the  re- 
spectful petition  read  in  parliament,  the  passage  of  these  violent 
measures,  and  especially  the  hiring  of  foreign  mercenaries,  filled 
the  cup  of  England's  wrongs  to  her  colonies.  Separation  and  war 
were  inevitable. 

Congress  invited  the  other  British  colonies  in  America  to 
unite  with  them  in  asserting  their  rights.  As  Canada  refused  to 
take  part  in  the  movement,  and  British  forces  ascending  the  St. 
Lawrence  could  thence  attack  the  colonies  in  the  rear,  it  was  de- 
cided, if  possible,  to  wrest  that  country  from  the  crown.  Early  in 
the  summer  and  fall  of  1775,  General  Montgomery,  commanding 
an  expedition,  captured  St.  John's,  at  the  foot  of  Lake  Champlain, 
within  the  Canadian  border.  Thence  pushing  on  to  Montreal,  he 
took  that  city,  and  advanced  through  the  ice  and  snow  of  Decem- 
ber upon  Quebec. 

Meanwhile  a  force  under  General  Arnold,  detached  from  the 
beleaguering  army  at  Boston,  had  ascended  the  Kennebec  River, 
and  made  its  way  northward  through  the  pathless  wilderness. 
With  this  indefatigable  leader  were  Morgan,  Greene,  Meigs,  and 
Aaron  Burr — then  a  young  man  of  twenty,  afterward  Vice-Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States.  No  pen  can  describe  the  horrors  of 
their  march.  Making  their  way  with  infinite  toil ;  carrying  their 
boats,  baggage,  and  ammunition  past  the  rapids  and  marshy 
swamps ;  exposed  to  rain  and  storm ;  crossing  swollen  streams ; 


1775. J 


SIEGE    OF    QUEBEC. 


163 


barefooted  and  with  clothes  torn  almost  to  nakedness ;  cold,  wet, 
weary,  and  sick ;  with  the  last  ox  killed ;  the  last  dog  eaten  ;  then 
roots  and  moose-skin  moccasins  devoured  in  the  extremity  of 
hunger ;  finally,  after  two  days  of  starvation,  the  famished  troops 
emerged  among  the  Canadian  settlements.  On  the  loth  of  No- 
vember they  appeared  like  spectres  upon  the  hanks  of  the  St. 
Lawrence,  opposite  Quebec.  Morgan's  riflemen  wore  linen  hunt- 
ing-shirts. By  some  mistake,  in  the  news  of  their  coming,  the 
word  toile  became  changed  to  tole,  and  the  simple  peasants  heard 
to  their  amazement  that  the  advancing  army  were  clad  in  sheet- 
iron.  Securing  boats  with  the  greatest  difficulty,  Arnold  crossed 
the  river,  landed  in  the  same  cove  where  Wolfe  made  his  daring 
attempt,  and  climbed  to  the  Plains  of  Abraham.  He  here  sum- 
moned the  city  to  surrender;  but  in  vain.  Soon  after,  he  was 
joined  by  Montgomery,  who  took  the  command.  Their  com- 
bined forces  did  not  number  one  thousand  men  and  a  few  small 
cannon,  yet  they 
proposed  to  be- 
siege the  greatest 
fortified  city  in 
America,  mount- 
ing two  hundred 
guns  and  defend- 
ed by  an  army 
twice  as  large  as 
their  own.  But 
Montgomery  had 
been  a  companion 
of  Wolfe,  and  he 
emulated  his  glo- 
rious example. 
For  a  time  he  en- 
deavored to  pro- 
voke the  garrison  to  come  out  and  fight  in  the  open  field ;  but 
Carleton,  the  governor,  was  present  when  Montcalm  ventured  to 
leave  the  protection  of  the  walls,  and  he  did  not  propose  to 
repeat  the  rash  experiment.  Montgomery  was  forced  to  begin 
a  regular  siege.  The  ground  was  frozen  too  hard  to  trench  for 
planting  the  battery,  so  he  filled  the  gabions  and  fascines  with 
snow,  over  which  he  poured  water.  This  made  a  solid  rampart 
of  ice   to   protect   the   men   as   they   worked   the   guns.     Three 


THE  PRESCOTT  GATE,   QUEBEC. 


164  OPENING    OF    THE    WAR.  [ 


Dec.  31, 


weeks  of  useless  labor  followed.  Perils  thickened.  The  artillery 
was  too  light  to  breach  the  walls ;  small-pox  and  other  diseases 
broke  out  among  the  troops ;  the  enlistment  of  the  men  had 
nearly  expired,  and  soon  the  army  would  break  up.  Montgom- 
ery decided  to  venture  all  upon  an  assault.  The  preparations 
were  carefully  made.  There  were  to  be  two  feigned  movements 
upon  the  upper  town  to  distract  the  attention  of  the  besieged, 
while  the  real  attacks  were  made  by  Montgomery  and  Arnold  on 
the  lower  town.  The  former  general  was  to  advance  along  the 
St.  Lawrence,  and  the  latter,  the  St.  Charles  River,  and  both  were 
to  unite  in  storming  the  Prescott  Gate. 

It  was  the  last  morning  of  the  year  1775.  The  men  were  ready 
at  two  o'clock.  To  recognize  one  another  in  the  dark,  they  placed 
in  the  front  of  their  hats  bits  of  white  paper,  on  which  some  of 
them  wrote  Patrick  Henry's  words,  '^  Liberty  or  Death."  It  was 
storming  bitterly  as  they  sallied  out  from  their  rude  huts,  and 
stumbled  through  and  against  the  cutting  hail  and  deep-driving 
snow.  They  tried  to  protect  their  guns  as  best  they  could,  but 
they  soon  became  useless.  Montgomery,  advancing  along  the 
river  at  the  foot  of  Cape  Diamond  Cliff,  helped  with  his  own  hands 
to  push  aside  the  huge  blocks  of  ice,  and,  struggling  through  the 
drifts,  cheered  on  his  panting  men.  As  they  rushed  forward,  a 
rude  block-house  appeared  through  the  blinding  storm.  **  Men  of 
New  York,"  he  shouted,  "  you  will  not  fear  to  follow  where  your 
general  leads."  Charging  upon  it,  he  fell  at  the  first  fire.  His 
followers,  disheartened,  fled.  Arnold,  in  the  meantime,  ap- 
proached the  opposite  side  of  the  city.  While  bravely  fighting 
he  was  severely  wounded  and  borne  to  the  rear.  Morgan,  his 
successor,  pressed  on  the  attack  with  his  riflemen;  but  at  last, 
unable  to  retreat  or  advance  against  the  tremendous  odds,  now 
that  Montgomery's  assault  had  failed,  he  took  refuge  in  the  neigh- 
boring houses,  where  he  was  finally  forced  to  surrender.  The 
remainder  of  the  army,  crouching  behind  mounds  of  snow  and 
ice,  maintained  a  blockade  of  the  city  until  spring.  Congress, 
blindly  bent  on  keeping  up  the  useless  struggle,  ordered  Washing- 
ton to  send  his  best  men  and  officers,  and  to  divide  his  scanty 
supply  of  powder,  for  the  siege  of  Quebec.  It  was  in  vain.  The 
garrison  laughed  outright  as  they  saw  General  Wooster,  the  new 
commander,  in  his  big  wig,  spying  out  their  weak  points.  They 
knew  they  were  invincible. 

May  1st,  General  Thomas  assumed  control  of  the  blockading 


July.  1 

lyre  J 


ABANDONMENT    OF    CANADA. 


I6s 


army.  He  decided  to  retreat.  It  was  already  too  late.  Rein- 
forcements from  England  were  fast  arriving  in  Quebec.  Before 
he  could  remove  his  sick  the  garrison  sallied  out  from  the  gates 
and  drove  his  men  in  confusion.  Many  of  the  sick,  amid  the 
hurry,  crept  off  among  the  Canadian  peasants,  who  nursed  them 
kindly,  while  Carleton  gave  them  the  privilege  of  entering  the 
hospital,  with  leave  to  return  home  when  they  were  fully  recov- 
ered. Thomas  dying  of  the  small-pox,  Sullivan  took  command. 
He  attempted  the  offensive,  but  was  soon  forced  to  resume  the 
retreat. 

It  was  not  until  July  that  the  fragments  of  the  army  of  Canada, 
then  under  Gates,  safely  reached  Crown  Point.  Terrible  was 
their  condition.  "  There  was  not  a  hut,"  says  Trumbull,  "  which 
did  not  contain  a  dead  or  dying  man ;"  while  a  physician,  witness- 
ing the  arrival  of  the  sick,  declared  that  he  ''  wept  at  their  suflfer- 
ings  until  he  could  weep  no  more." 


A  STREET  IN   QUEBEC — SCENE   OF  ARNOLD'S   ATTACK. 


CHAPTER    III. 


IJ7(DE<PEJ'J(DEUCE    YEA(k~iTj6. 


yr-r^.A^W( 


URING  the  winter  of  1775-6,  Con- 
gress and  the  country  were  impa- 
tient at  Washington's  inactivity. 
He  dared  not  make  known  his 
real  weakness.  He  could  not 
publish  the  facts :  that  for  six 
months  he  never  had  powder 
enough  for  a  battle ;  that  the 
military  chest  was  empty,  the 
men  appointed  to  sign  the  paper- 
promises  being  too  lazy  to  do  the 
work ;  that  he  lacked  bayonets ; 
that  two  thousand  of  his  men  had 
no  muskets  ;  that,  by  the  expiration  of  enlistments,  he  had  to  dis- 
band  one  army  and  recruit  another ;  and  all  this  in  the  presence 
of  the  enemy.  Toward  the  close  of  December,  the  Connecticut 
troops,  having  served  their  time  of  enlistment,  determined  to 
leave  in  a  body.  Washington  was  greatly  hurt  by  this  lack  of 
patriotism.  He  tried  to  stimulate  their  zeal  by  frequent  appeals,, 
and  made  the  camp  to  resound  with  popular  songs  of  heroism  and 
liberty.  But  it  was  all  in  vain.  "  The  desire  of  retiring  into  a 
chimney-corner  seizes  the  troops  as  soon  as  their  terms  expire," 
he  wrote  reproachfully.  So  little  sympathy  did  these  recreant 
troops  find  on  their  way  homeward  that  they  could  hardly  get 
enough  to  eat,  and  when  they  reached  their  own  firesides  they 
found  the  honest  indignation  of  their  patriot  wives  and  mothers 
a  so  much  harder  thing  to  face  than  the  mouth  of  the  enemy's 
cannon,  that  many  were  glad  soon  to  return  to  camp. 

Washington,  in  spite  of  all  these  discouragements,  resolutely 
laid  his  plans,  and  made  ready  for  a  grand  stroke  which  he  hoped 


•^f^'yeM  EVACUATION    OF    BOSTON.  1 6/ 

would  be  decisive.  On  the  4th  of  March,  just  after  the  candles 
were  lighted  in  the  houses  of  Boston,  he  suddenly  opened  a  tre- 
mendous fire  on  the  city  from  all  his  batteries.  The  enemy  replied. 
Soon  the  air  was  heavy  with  the  roar  of  the  guns,  and  the  streets 
were  full  of  citizens  and  soldiers  watching  the  flight  of  the  shells 
and  dreading  their  fall  and  explosion.  Under  cover  of  the  noise 
and  confusion,  Dorchester  Heights  were  occupied,  entrenchments 
thrown  up  with  bales  of  pressed  hay,  an  abattis  made  of  the  trees 
in  the  neighboring  orchards,  and  even  barrels  of  stone  provided 
to  roll  down  on  an  advancing  enemy.  In  the  morning  the  Eng- 
lish were  astonished  to  see  on  a  height  commanding  the  city  a 
formidable-looking  fortress  looming  indistinctly  through  the  ris- 
ing fog."  "  The  rebels,"  exclaimed  Howe,  "  have  done  more  work 
in  one  night  than  my  whole  army  would  have  done  in  a  month." 
"  We  must  drive  them  from  that  post,"  said  Colonel  Monckton, 
"or  desert  the  place."  A  storm  prevented  an  immediate  attack, 
a  delay  which  was  well  improved  by  the  provincials.  General 
Howe,  who  was  then  in  command,  remembering  the  lesson  of 
Bunker  Hill,  decided  to  leave.  Indeed,  there  was  no  alternative. 
The  British  troops  had  no  stomach  for  another  fight.  The  Amer- 
ican cannon  completely  commanded  the  harbor,  and  the  admiral 
refused  to  remain.  Gage  accordingly  set  sail  for  Halifax  on  the 
17th  with  his  entire  army  and  about  eleven  hundred  loyalists. 
Washington's  end  was  accomplished,  and  not  twenty  men  had 
been  lost  since  he  took  command. 

It  was  a  bitter  pill  for  the  English.  The  generals  who  had 
come  expecting  to  run  over  the  colonies  at  their  pleasure,  and 
had  even  brought  with  them  fishing-rods,  as  if  on  a  holiday  ex- 
cursion, had,  instead,  been  cooped  up  close  to  their  landing-place 
for  months,  and  were  now  forced  to  ignominiously  leave  their 
winter-quarters,  and  to  lower  their  flag  without  the  satisfaction 
of  firing  a  parting  shot.  But  how  sad  was  it  for  the  loyalists 
who  had  clung  to  the  king,  and  now,  startled  by  finding  the  army 
unable  to  protect  them,  were  suddenly  forced  to  leave  native 
land,  home,  and  property,  and  henceforth  to  drag  out  a  useless 
life  on  a  dreary  shore,  pensioners  on  the  bounty  which  the  gov- 
ernment pityingly  doled  out  to  them  in  their  distress ! 

For  eleven  months  the  inhabitants  had  endured  the  horrors  of 
a  siege  and  the  insolence  of  the  soldiery.  Houses  and  shade- 
trees  had  been  burned  for  fuel.  The  Old  North  Meeting-House 
had  thus  passed  into  ashes,  the  Old  South  being  reserved  for  a 


1 68      .  INDEPENDENCE    YEAR.  UfiieJ' 

riding-school.  An  elegantly  carved  pew  with  silk  hangings, 
belonging  to  the  latter,  was  taken  by  one  of  the  officers  for  a  pig- 
sty. Faneuil  Hall  was  converted  into  a  theatre.  One  evening, 
before  a  house  packed  with  troops  and  tories,  a  play  was  in  pro- 
gression called  "  The  Blockade  of  Boston,"  being  a  broad  bur- 
lesque on  the  patriot  army.  Washington  herein  appeared  as  *'  an 
awkward  lout,  equipped  with  a  huge  wig  and  a  long  rusty  sword, 
attended  by  a  country  booby  as  orderly  sergeant,  in  rustic  garb, 
with  an  old  firelock  seven  or  eight  feet  long."  It  was  very  funny, 
and  when  a  British  sergeant  suddenly  came  to  the  front,  exclaim- 
ing in  excited  tones, ''  The  Yankees  are  attacking  Bunker's  Hill !  " 
it  was  loudly  applauded  as  a  piece  of  magnificent  acting.  But, 
directly,  the  clear,  commanding  voice  of  General  Howe  rang 
out,  **  Officers,  to  your  alarm-posts."  The  scene  was  quickly 
changed.  Women  shrieked  and  fainted ;  men  jumped  to  their 
feet ;  everybody  scrambled  over  everybody  else  to  reach  the 
open  door.  The  ridiculous  general  and  his  frowsy  sergeant  were 
left  upon  the  stage  to  tumble  out  of  their  clownish  masquerades 
as  best  they  might,  while  the  soldier  audience  hastened  with 
quite  different  expectations  to  meet,  perhaps,  the  real  Washing- 
ton. But  it  proved  to  be  General  Putnam,  who,  swooping  down 
upon  Charlestown,  fired  the  guard-house,  took  a  handful  of  pris- 
oners, and  escaped,  without  loss,  back  to  the  American  quarters. 

All  this  was  now  passed.  Those  who  had  been  so  long  exiled 
from  their  homes  returned  to  the  city.  Ancient  customs  were 
renewed.  We  read  how  on  Thursday  evening  following,  Wash- 
ington attended  the  regular  week-day  lecture,  and  the  congrega- 
tion together  thanked  God  for  the  restoration  of  their  beloved 
Zion,  its  "  stakes  unmoved "  and  its  *'  cords  unbroken."  "  It 
seemed,"  says  Bancroft,  "  as  if  the  old  century  was  reaching  out 
its  hands  to  the  new,  and  the  Puritan  ancestry  of  Massachusetts 
were  returning  to  bless  the  deliverer  of  their  children." 

Governor  Martin  of  North  Carolina,  following  in  the  footsteps 
of  Dunmore,  sought  to  combine  the  friends  of  the  king,  and  thus 
check  the  rising  tide  of  liberty  in  his  State.  He  accordingly 
authorized  Donald  McDonald,  a  noted  Highlander  at  Cross 
Creek,  now  Fayetteville,  to  raise  the  loyalists  of  that  region. 
Soon  fifteen  hundred  had  gathered  about  the  standard  of  this 
faithful  Scotchman.  The  patriots,  however,  were  awake.  Colonel 
Moore,  with  a  large  body  of  regulars  and  militia,  approached  his 
headquarters  and  cut  off  all  his  communications  with  Governor 


''17767']  AFFAIRS    IN    NORTH    CAROLINA.  1 69 

Martin.  McDonald,  finding  he  could  not  intimidate  the  "  rebels," 
thereupon  rapidly  retreated  toward  Wilmington,  where  he 
hoped  to  join  the  governor  and  also  await  General  Clinton,  who 
was  expected  to  arrive  from  the  North  with  reinforcements.  At 
Moore's  Creek,  however,  he  found  his  retreat  cut  ofif  by  Colonels 
Caswell   and    Lillington   with   one   thousand   minute-men.      The 


BOSTON   ONE   HUNDRED   YEARS  AGO. 


brave  Highlander  resolved  to  cut  his  way  through  the  gathering 
foes.  Early  in  the  morning  of  February  27,  to  the  sound  of  bag- 
pipes and  bugle,  the  royalists  advanced  to  the  charge.  When 
within  twenty  paces,  the  whigs  rose  from  their  ambush,  while 
another  party  under  Lieutenant  Slocum,  by  a  circuit  came  upon 
the  enemy's  rear.  In  a  few  minutes  the  tory  army  was  utterly 
routed,  with  a  loss  of  seventy  killed  and  wounded,  while  the 
patriots  had  only  two  of  their  number  injured.  This  battle  de- 
cided the  fate  of  the  royal  cause  in  North  Carolina ;  and  soon 
after  the  governor  took  refuge  on  a  British  vessel. 

An  anecdote  is  told  of  the  wife  of  Lieutenant  Slocum,  who 
was  as  heroic  as  himself.  After  her  husband  departed,  she  saw 
him  in  a  dream  lying  dead  on  the  ground.  Awaking  in  great 
distress,  she  arose,  saddled  a  horse,  and  rode  at  full  gallop 
through  the  swamp  in  the  direction  taken  by  the  troops.  At  nine 
in  the  morning  she  neared  the  battle-field.  One  of  the  first 
objects  she  saw  was  the  lieutenant's  cloak  wrapped  around  a 
body  stretched  upon  the  ground.      With  sinking  heart,  she  dis- 


I/O  INDEPENDENCE    YEAR.  [''"1776?' 

mounted,  to  find,  not  her  husband,  but  one  of  his  wounded  men. 
She  washed  his  face,  bound  up  his  wounds,  and  was  performing 
the  like  office  to  a  second  sufferer  when  her  astonished  husband 
came  up.  She  remained  all  day,  caring  for  the  wounded  loyalists 
with  true  Samaritan  kindness.  At  midnight  she  started  for  her 
home,  where  a  mother's  duties  were  required.  In  less  than  forty 
hours  this  wonderful  woman  rode  one  hundred  and  twenty-five 
miles,  spending  the  time  when  out  of  her  saddle,  not  in  taking 
rest,  but  in  dressing  the  wounds  of  her  enemies. 

Though  the  British  had  abandoned  Boston,  they  had  not  given 
up  the  war.  The  next  movement  was  destined  for  the  South. 
Early  in  June,  Admiral  Parker  appeared  off  the  harbor  of 
Charleston  with  a  strong  fleet,  having  on  board  General  Clinton 
with  about  twenty-five  hundred  land  troops.  The  South  Caro- 
linians had  received  news  of  their  probable  coming,  and  were 
hard  at  work  getting  ready  to  give  their  unwelcome  visitors  a 
hot  reception.  Fort  Sullivan,  a  fort  on  an  island  of  the  same  name, 
commanded  the  entrance  to  the  harbor.  It  was  built  of  two  rows 
of  palmetto  logs,  sixteen  feet  apart,  the  space  between  being  filled 
with  sand.  Major-General  Charles  Lee,  who  had  been  sent  by 
Washington  to  watch  the  seaboard,  had  no  confidence  in  this  rude 
fortress,  and  was  anxious  to  have  it  abandoned.  He  declared  that 
it  was  but  a  **  slaughter  pen,"  provided  only  twenty-eight  rounds 
of  ammunition  for  twenty-six  of  its  guns,  and  repeatedly  urged 
the  necessity  of  securing  the  retreat  of  the  garrison.  But  the 
brave  Carolinians  proposed  to  hold  the  place.  "  What  do  you 
think  of  it  now  ?  "  said  an  officer  to  Colonel  Moultrie,  as  they 
were  surveying  the  British  line  of  ships,  all  of  which  were 
already  over  the  bar.  *'  We  shall  beat  them,"  was  the  determined 
reply.  ^'  The  men-of-war  will  knock  your  fort  down  in  half  an 
hour,"  returned  the  other.  *'  Then,"  said  Moultrie,  nothing 
daunted,  '^  we  will  lie  behind  the  ruins  and  prevent  their  men 
from  landing." 

On  the  morning  of  the  28th  the  British  fleet  took  position  and 
opened  a  terrific  fire.  The  balls  sank  into  the  porous,  spongy 
palmetto  logs  without  breaking  or  splintering  them.  Moultrie 
slowly  replied,  but  each  shot  told,  and  the  ships  in  a  few  hours 
were  completely  riddled.  At  one  time,  every  man  except 
Admiral  Parker  was  swept  from  the  deck  of  his  vessel.  In  the 
early  part  of  the  action  the  staff  was  struck  by  a  ball,  and  the 
flag,  the  first  Republican  banner  hoisted  at  the  South,  fell  out- 


June  28,  ~| 
1776.      J 


ATTACK    ON    FORT    MOULTRIE. 


171 


THE  ATTACK  ON  FORT  MOULTRIB. 


side  the  fort. 
Sergeant  Jas- 
per     leaped 
over    the    breastwork, 
about  which  the  balls 
were  thickly  flying,  caught  up 
the    flag,   and  springing   back, 
tied   it  to  a  sponge   staff  and 
hoisted  it  again  to  its  place.     Gen- 
eral Clinton,  who   commanded  the 

British  land  troops,  tried  to  attack  the  fort  in  the  rear,  but  Thom- 
son's riflemen,  posted  behind  myrtle  bushes  and  sand  hills,  made 
it  too  hot  for  him.  The  fleet  was  at  last  so  badly  shattered  that 
it  withdrew  and  sailed  for  New  York.  This  victory  gave  the 
colonists  great  delight,  as  it  was  their  first  encounter  with  the 
boasted  '*  mistress  of  the  seas."  The  fort  so  gallantly  defended 
was  christened  Moultrie.  It  had  saved  not  only  a  city,  but  a 
province.  The  next  day  Governor  Rutledge  offered  the  brave 
Jasper  a  sword  and  a  lieutenant's  commission.  He  modestly 
refused  the  latter,  saying,  **  I  am  not  fit  for  the  company  of  officers  ; 
I  am  content  to  be  a  sergeant.'* 

Gradually,  but  surely,  the  colonists  were  being  weaned  from 
the  mother  country.  Day  by  day  for  nearly  a  year  the  sword 
had  been  busy,  cutting  the  ties  which  had  so  long  bound  them  to 


1/2  INDEPENDENCE    YEAR.  Vnle.' 

Great  Britain.  Since  the  king  had  pronounced  them  "  rebels," 
the  feeling  had  been  gaining  ground  that  independence  was  the 
only  hope.  No  one  did  better  work  toward  accomplishing  this 
result  than  Thomas  Paine,  who,  coming  from  England  the  year 
before,  had  been  induced  by  Franklin  and  others  to  use  his  pen 
in  behalf  of  the  colonists.  His  first  essay,  entitled  Common  SensCy 
in  plain,  simple  language  urged  the  necessity  of  at  once  separat- 
ing entirely  from  England.  Every  line  glowed  with  the  spirit  of 
liberty,  and  men's  hearts  were  thrilled  as  they  read.  The  pam- 
phlet reached  Congress,  then  in  session  at  Philadelphia,  January  8, 
the  day  after  the  news  had  arrived  of  the  burning  of  Norfolk  by 
Dunmore.  It  produced  a  powerful  impression.  Washington, 
writing  to  Secretary  Reed,  says :  "  A  few  more  such  flaming 
arguments  as  were  exhibited  at  Falmouth  and  Norfolk,  added  to 
the  sound  doctrine  and  unanswerable  reasoning  contained  in 
*  Common  Sense,'  will  not  leave  numbers  at  a  loss  to  decide." 

In  April,  at  the  opening  of  the  courts  in  South  Carolina,  the 
chief  justice  charged  the  jury  that  they  "  owed  no  obedience  to 
George  III."  The  British  flag  kept  its  place  on  the  State-house 
of  Virginia  until  May  of  this  year,  when  the  assembly  directed 
the  Virginia  delegate  in  Congress  to  propose  a  dissolution  of 
their  allegiance  to  Great  Britain.  Washington  wrote  that 
"  nothing  but  independence  could  save  the  nation."  Accordingly 
on  the  7th  of  June,  Richard  Henry  Lee  offered  a  resolution 
declaring  that  "  These  United  Colonies  are,  and  of  right 

OUGHT  TO  BE,  FREE  AND  INDEPENDENT  STATES."  It  was  Sec- 
onded by  John  Adams.  After  a  little  discussion  from  the  dele- 
gates of  several  colonies,  who  were  pledged  to  vote  against 
independence,  a  committee  was  appointed,  consisting  of  Thomas 
Jefferson,  John  Adams,  Benjamin  Franklin,  Roger  Sherman,  and 
Robert  R.  Livingston,  to  propose  a  suitable  Declaration  ;  Jefferson 
representing  Virginia,  from  which  the  proposition  emanated,  and, 
being  elected  by  the  largest  number  of  votes,  was  selected  to 
draft  it.  Meanwhile,  the  delegates  from  the  different  colonies 
received  instructions  from  their  constituents  how  to  vote  upon 
the  measure.  July  2d,  Lee's  resolution  was  formally  passed  by 
twelve  of  the  colonies ;  New  York  alone  abstaining  from  the  vote. 
Two  days  after,  the  Declaration  having  been  closely  debated  by 
Congress,  was  adopted  with  but  few  amendments. 

While  the  protracted  and  oftentimes  severe  discussions  over 
the  Declaration  were  in  progress,  Jefferson  remained  silent ;  John 


July  4,-1 
1776.  J 


DECLARATION    OF    INDEPENDENCE. 


173 


Adams  being  its  stout  defender.  "  During  the  debate,"  the 
former  wrote  in  his  journal,  "  I  was  sitting  by  Dr.  Franklin,  who 
observed  that  I  was  writhing  a  little  under  the  acrimonious  criti- 
cism of  some  of  its  parts  ;  and  it  was  on  that  occasion  that,  by 
way  of  comfort,  he  told  me  the  story  of  John  Thompson,  the 
hatter,  and  his  new  sign."  All  readers  of  Franklin's  autobiography 
will  remember  the  story :  how  the  prospective  shopkeeper,  with 
much  pride,  laid  out  his  plan  for  a  sign,  '*  John  Thompson,  hatter, 
makes  and  sells  hats  for  ready  money,"  accompanied  by  a  picture 
of  the  article ;  and  how  his  critical  friends  picked  first  at  this 
word  and  then  at  that  as  superfluous,  till  the  dismayed  shopman 
had  nothing  left  but  his  name  and  the  painted  hat.  The  point  was 
too  obvious  not  to  be  enjoyed,  especially  when  told  in  Franklin's 
happy  style. 

During  the  day  of  the  4th  the  streets  of  Philadelphia  were 
crowded  with  people  anxious  to  learn  the  decision.  In  the  steeple 
of  the  old  State-house  was  a  bell 
which,  by  a  strange  coincidence, 
was  inscribed,  "  Proclaim  liberty 
throughout  all  the  land  unto  all  the 
inhabitants  thereof."  In  the  morn- 
ing, when  Congress  assembled,  the 
bell-ringer  went  to  his  post,  placing 
his  boy  below  to  announce  when  the 
Declaration  was  adopted,  that  his 
bell  might  be  the  first  to  peal  forth 
the  glad  tidings.  Long  he  waited  as 
the  day  wore  on  and  the  tedious  de- 
liberations held  the  result  in  sus- 
pension.    Impatiently  the  old  man 

shook  his  head  and  repeated,  *'  They  will  never  do  it !  They  will 
never  do  it !  "  Suddenly  he  heard  his  boy  clapping  his  hands  and 
shouting,  "  Ring !  Ring !  "  Grasping  the  iron  tongue,  he  swung 
it  vigorously  to  and  fro.  The  crowded  streets  caught  up  the 
sound.  Every  steeple  re-echoed  it.  All  that  night,  by  shouts, 
and  illuminations,  and  booming  of  cannon,  the  people  declared 
their  zeal  and  joy. 

**  There  was  tumult  in  the  city. 

In  the  quaint  old  Quakers'  town, 

And  the  streets  were  rife  with  people, 

Pacing  restless  up  and  down  ; — 


LIBERTY    BELL. 


174  INDEPENDENCE    YEAR.  [Jj^^jf^ 

People  gathering  at  corners, 
Where  they  whispered  each  to  eaclv         * 

And  the  sweat  stood  on  their  temples. 
With  the  earnestness  of  speech. 

"As  the  bleak  Atlantic  currents 

Lash  the  wild  Newfoundland  shore, 
So  they  beat  against  the  State-house, 

So  they  surged  against  the  door ; 
And  the  mingling  of  their  voices 

Made  a  harmony  profound, 
Till  the  quiet  street  of  Chestnut 

Was  all  turbulent  with  sound. 

*♦  •  Will  they  do  it  ? '     '  Dare  they  do  it  ? ' 
•  Who  is  speaking ? '    *  What's  the  news?* 

*  What  of  Adams  ? '     *  What  of  Sherman  ? ' 

'  Oh,  God  grant  they  won't  refuse  ! ' 
'  Make  some  way  there  ! '     '  Let  me  nearer  !* 
'  I  am  stifling  1'     '  Stifle,  then  ! 
When  a  nation's  life's  at  hazard, 
We've  no  time  to  think  of  men  ! ' 

"■  So  they  beat  against  the  portal, 

Man  and  woman,  maid  and  child  ; 
And  the  July  sun  in  heaven 

On  the  scene  look'd  down  and  smiled  ; 
The  same  sun  that  saw  the  Spartan 

Shield  his  patriot  blood  in  vain, 
Now  beheld  the  soul  of  freedom 

All  unconquer'd  rise  again. 

**  See  !  See  !    The  dense  crowd  quivers 

Through  all  its  lengthy  line, 
As  the  boy  beside  the  portal 

Looks  forth  to  give  the  sign  ! 
With  his  small  hands  upward  lifted. 

Breezes  dallying  with  his  hair, 
Hark  !  with  deep,  clear  intonation, 

Breaks  his  young  voice  on  the  air. 

**  Hush'd  the  people's  swelling  murmur, 
List  the  boy's  strong,  joyous  cry  ! 

*  /^ing  !  '  he  shouts,  '  Ring  !  Grandpa^ 

'  Ring  !  Oh,  Ring  for  Liberty  !  * 
And  straightway,  at  the  signal, 

The  old  bellman  lifts  his  hand, 
And  sends  the  good  news,  making 

Iron  music  through  the  land. 


'''(f,^/  DECLARATION    OF    INDEPENDENCE.  I75 

**  How  they  shouted  !    What  rejoicing  ! 
How  the  old  bell  shook  the  air, 
,  Till  the  clang  of  freedom  ruffled 

The  calm,  gliding  Delaware  ! 
How  the  bonfires  and  the  torches 

Illumed  the  night's  repose, 
And  from  the  flames,  like  Phcenix, 
Fair  Liberty  arose  ! 

**  That  old  bell  now  is  silent, 

And  hush'd  its  iron  tongue, 
But  the  spirit  it  awakened 

Still  lives, — forever  young. 
And  while  we  greet  the  sunlight. 

On  the  fourth  of  each  July, 
We'll  ne'er  forget  the  bellman, 

Who,  twixt  the  earth  and  sky. 
Rung  out  Our  Independence  : 

ViYiich,  T^\e2iSQ  God,  shall  never  die  !** ■ 

The  Declaration  had  been  duly  authenticated  by  the  president 
before  being  published.  It  was  ordered  to  be  engrossed  on 
parchment,  and  on  the  2d  of  August  the  fifty-four  delegates 
present  affixed  their  signatures.  John  Hancock's  name,  as  presi- 
dent, led  the  rest.  After  he  had  written  his  name  in  a  bold,  clear 
hand,  he  rose  from  his  seat  and  said,  "  There !  John  Bull  can 
read  that  without  his  spectacles,  and  may  now  double  his  reward 
of  five  hundred  pounds  for  my  head.  That  is  my  defiance." 
Turning  to  the  rest,  he  added,  "  Gentlemen,  we  must  be  unani- 
mous ;  we  must  all  hang  together."  '*  Yes,"  replied  FrankUn,  "  or 
we  shall  all  hang  separately."  The  Declaration  of  Independence 
was  read  by  Washington's  orders  at  the  head  of  the  army  then  in 
New  York.  It  created  the  greatest  enthusiasm.  That  night  the 
statue  of  George  III.  was  torn  from  its  pedestal.  It  was  of  lead, 
gilded,  and  being  melted,  made  forty-two  thousand  bullets  for  the 
use  of  the  troops. 

The  Declaration  of  Independence  completed  the  breach  be- 
tween England  and  America.  It  clearly  set  before  the  colonists 
the  object  for  which  they  were  struggling,  and  combined  England 
for  the  overthrow  of  the  new  Republic.  Henceforth,  the  issue 
was  Liberty  or  Slavery.  There  was  no  other  choice.  The  whig 
and  tory  parties  were  now  more  distinctly  defined,  and  the  most 
bitter  hatred  arose  between  them.  Persons  known  as  favoring 
the  king  were  tarred  and  feathered  by  their  patriotic  neighbors, 


176  INDEPENDENCE    YEAR.  ["'"'1776.'^' 

and  exhibited  in  this  state  to  the  derision  of  the  crowd.  Con- 
gress appointed  committees  to  restrain  these  over-zealous  mani- 
festations, but  they  were  often  powerless  in  the  face  of  public  sen- 
timent. 

During  this  year  and  the  next  all  the  States  either  adopted  a 
new  constitution  or  remodeled  their  charters  to  adapt  them  to  the 
necessities  of  free  and  independent  States ;  Rhode  Island  and  Con- 
necticut only  having  to  change  the  word  ''king"  to  ''people"  to 
effect  this  result. 

It  is  a  noticeable  fact  that  the  founders  of  our  government, 
when  they  threw  off  the  bondage  of  Great  Britain,  had  no  direct 
intention  of  founding  a  republic.  That  idea  came  only  as  mature 
fruit  from  the  blossom  of  free  thought,  borne  by  the  tree  of  liberty, 
planted  so  long  before  on  American  soil.  They  revolted  from 
George  III.,  not  because  he  was  a  king,  but  because  he  was  a  des- 
pot. They  threw  off  the  rule  of  Great  Britain,  not  because  it  was 
a  monarchy,  but  because  it  was  tyrannical.  They  became  a  re- 
public, as  that  seemed  the  only  thing  to  do.  No  one  thought  of  a 
monarch.  The  people  had  learned  how  to  govern  themselves,  and 
their  rulers  needed  none  of  the  false  dignity  that  "  doth  hedge 
about  a  king."  The  colonies,  for  nearly  a  century  and  a  half,  all 
unconsciously,  had  wrought  out  the  idea  of  a  republic.  It  now 
came  as  naturally  as  the  rain  and  the  dew  from  heaven. 

After  the  evacuation  of  Boston,  Washington  thought  that 
probably  the  British  would  next  try  to  seize  New  York,  both  on 
account  of  its  commercial  importance  and  the  strong  tory  element 
in  that  vicinity.  He  therefore,  soon  after,  came  to  that  city.  The 
most  vigorous  preparations  were  made  to  complete  the  fortifica- 
tions, already  begun  by  General  Charles  Lee.  Troops  were  en- 
listed for  three  years,  and  a  bounty  of  ten  dollars  offered  to 
encourage  recruiting.  About  twenty-seven  thousand  men  were 
finally  collected.  Little  over  half  of  these  were  fit  for  duty.  One 
regiment,  we  read,  had  only  ninety-seven  firelocks  and  seven  bay- 
onets. The  officers,  many  of  whom  were  grossly  incompetent, 
wrangled  about  precedence.  The  soldiers  mistook  insubordina- 
tion for  independence.  Sectional  jealousies  prevailed  to  such  a 
degree,  that  a  letter  of  the  times  reports  that  the  Pennsylvania 
and  New  England  troops  were  quite  as  ready  to  fight  each  other 
as  the  enemy. 

The  first  of  July,  General  Howe  arrived  at  Staten  Island  from 
Halifax.     Soon  after,  he  was  joined  by  his  brother.  Admiral  Howe. 


^"{jjef]  BATTLE    OF    LONG    ISLAND.  1 7/ 

from  England,  and  Clinton,  from  the  defeat  of  Fort  Moultrie. 
They  had  thirty  thousand  men  admirably  disciplined  and  equip- 
ped ;  among  them  about  eight  thousand  of  the  dreaded  Hessians. 
The  fleet,  consisting  of  ten  ships-of-the-line,  twenty  frigates,  and 
four  hundred  ships  and  transports,  was  moored  in  the  bay  ready 
to  co-operate.  Parliament  had  authorized  the  Howes  to  treat 
with  the  insurgents.  By  proclamation  they  accordingly  offered 
pardon  to  all  who  would  return  to  their  allegiance.  This  docu- 
ment was  published  by  direction  of  Congress,  that  the  people 
might  see  what  England  demanded.  An  officer  was  then  sent  to 
the  American  camp  with  a  letter  addressed  to  "  George  Washing- 
ton, Esq."  Washington  refused  to  receive  it.  The  address  was 
afterward  changed  to  "  George  Washington,  &c.,  &c."  The  mes- 
senger endeavored  to  show  that  this  bore  any  meaning  which 
might  be  desired.  But  Washington  utterly  refused  any  communi- 
cation which  did  not  distinctly  recognize  his  position  as  com- 
mander-in-chief of  the  American  army.  Lord  Howe  was  evi- 
dently desirous  of  a  restoration  of  peace.  He  solicited  an  inter- 
view with  Franklin,  an  old-time  friend ;  but  events  had  gone  too 
far.  England  would  not  grant  independence,  and  the  colonies 
would  accept  nothing  less.     War  must  settle  the  question. 

It  was  not  till  the  last  of  August  that  Clinton  crossed  over  the 
Narrows  to  Long  Island.  Brooklyn  was  fortified  by  a  series  of 
entrenchments  and  forts  extending  from  Gowanus  Bay  to  Wall- 
about.  Here  were  stationed  about  eight  thousand  men  under 
Generals  Sullivan  and  Stirling.  About  two  and  a  half  miles  south 
was  a  range  of  wooded  heights  traversed  by  three  roads  along 
which  the  British  could  advance ;  one  leading  up  directly  from 
the  Narrows  and  Gravesend  to  Gowanus  Bay,  a  second  from  Flat- 
bush,  and  a  third,  the  Jamaica  road,  cutting  through  the  hills  by 
the  Bedford  and  the  Jamaica  passes.  General  Greene,  who  was 
intimately  acquainted  with  the  ground,  being  unfortunately  sick. 
General  Putnam  was  hastily  sent  over  to  take  charge  of  the  de- 
fence. General  Stirling  and  General  Sullivan  occupied  the  heights, 
but,  by  a  fatal  oversight,  the  Jamaica  road  was  unguarded.  The 
English  were  not  slow  to  take  advantage  of  the  opportunity. 

On  the  eve  of  the  26th,  General  Clinton,  with  Percy  and  Corn- 
wallis,  crossed  the  narrow  causeway  called  Shoemaker's  Bridge, 
over  a  marsh  near  New  Lots — where,  it  is  said,  a  single  regiment 
could  have  barred  the  way — and,  before  daylight,  had  seized  the 
Bedford  and  the  Jamaica  passes,  while  the  Americans  were  yet 
12 


178 


INDEPENDENCE    YEAR. 


rAug.  2: 

L     1776. 


27, 


unconscious  of  his  having  left  Flatlands.  Meanwhile  General 
Grant  moved  forward  along  the  coast,  on  the  direct  road,  from 
the  Narrows  up  to  the  hills  at  present  embraced  in  Greenwood 
Cemetery.  Here  there  was  considerable  skirmishing,  but  Stir- 
ling held  him  in  check.  Clinton, 
pushing  down  from  the  hills,  now 
fell  upon  the  American  left,  at 
Bedford.  The  sound  of  cannon  in 
their  rear  filled  the  Americans 
with  dismay.  At  that  moment 
De  Heister,  with  the  Hessians, 
who  had  already  begun 
to  skirmish  on  the  Flat- 
bush  road,  stormed  Sul- 
livan's position.  Re- 
treat was  the  patriots* 
only  hope.  It  was, 
however,  too  late. 
Caught  between  the 
Hessians  and  the  Brit- 
ish, they  were  driven 
to  and  fro,  cut  down  by 
the  dragoons,  or  bayo- 
neted without  mercy 
by  the  Hessians  and 
the  Highlanders,  who 
listened  to  no  plea  for 
quarter.  Some  took  to 
the  rocks  and  trees,  and 

sold  their  lives  as  dearly  as  they  could ;  some  broke  through  and 
escaped,  pursued  by  the  grenadiers  to  the  American  lines  at  Fort 
Putnam  ;  the  rest  were  captured. 

Cornwallis  hurried  on  with  his  corps  to  close  in  upon  General 
Stirling,  who  was  yet  unaware  of  the  disaster  upon  his  left,  at  the 
same  time  firing  two  guns  as  a  signal  for  Grant  to  attack  the 
front.  Stirling,  with  a  part  of  Smallwood's  regiment,  composed 
of  the  sons  of  the  best  families  in  Maryland,  turned  upon  this 
unexpected  foe  in  his  rear,  determined  by  a  heroic  sacrifice  to 
give  the  rest  a  chance  for  escape.  He  accomplished  his  design  ; 
all  his  companions  crossed  Gowanus  Creek  in  safety ;  but  he, 
himself,   was   captured,   and   two   hundred   and  fifty-nine  of  the 


August,! 
17^6.   J 


BATTLE    OF    LONG    ISLAND. 


179 


PRISON-SHIP  AT  WALLABOUT. 


Marylanders  lay  dead  on  the  field.  Washington  beheld  the  fight 
fi-om  a  neighboring  hill,  and,  wringing  his  hands  in  agony,  ex- 
claimed, '*  What  brave  fellows  I  must  lose  this  day ! " 

It  was  a  sad  augury  for  the  Republic  which  had  just  issued 
its  Declaration  of  Independence.  The  British  loss  was  but 
four  hundred  and  the  American  nearly  one  thousand.  Of  the 
latter,  the  larger  part,  with  Generals  Sullivan  and  Stirling, 
were  prisoners.  The  higher  officers  were  soon  exchanged, 
but  the  hard  lot 
of  the  privates 
and  lower  officers 
made  the  fate  of 
those  who  per- 
ished in  battle  to 
be  envied.  Num- 
bers were  con- 
fined in  the  sugar- 
house  and  the  old 
hulks  at  Wall- 
about,  where  aft- 
erward so  many 
other  American  prisoners  suffered  untold  agonies.  Here,  fester- 
ing with  disease,  perishing  with  famine,  and  loathsome  with  filth, 
deprived  of  fresh  air,  water,  and  every  necessary  of  life,  eleven 
thousand  Americans,  it  is  said,  found  an  untimely  grave  ere  the 
war  was  over. 

Had  Howe  attacked  the  works  at  Brooklyn  immediately,  the 
Americans  would  probably  have  been  utterly  destroyed.  Fortu- 
nately, he  delayed  for  the  fleet  to  co-operate  ;  but  an  adverse  wind 
prevented.  For  two  days  the  patriots  lay  helpless,  awaiting  the 
assault.  On  the  second  night  after  the  battle  there  was  a  dense 
fog  on  the  Brooklyn  side,  while  in  New  York  the  weather  was 
clear.  A  little  before  midnight,  the  Americans  moved  silently 
down  to  the  shore  and  commenced  to  cross  the  river,  near  what  is 
now  the  Fulton  Ferry.  Everything  was  planned  with  Washing- 
ton's peculiar  precision.  The  guards,  sentinels,  and  outer  lines 
were  ordered  to  remain  quietly  at  their  posts  till  the  very  last,  that 
the  enemy  might  suspect  no  movement.  The  stifled  murmur  of 
the  camp,  as  each  man  took  his  place  in  silence  for  the  march  to 
the  river-side,  gradually  died  away  in  the  distance.  Suddenly  the 
roar  of  a  cannon  burst  upon  the  night-air.     "  The  effect,"  say?  an 


i8o 


INDEPENDENCE    YEAR. 


rAug.  30. 
L     177 


'76. 


American  who  was  present,  "  was  at  once  alarming  and  sublime. 
If  the  explosion  was  within  our  own  lines,  the  gun  was  probably 
discharged  in  the  act  of  spiking  it,  and  could  have  been  no  less  a 
matter  of  speculation  to  the  enemy  than  to  ourselves."  The 
mystery  of  that  midnight  gun  remains  still  unexplained.  Fortu- 
nately, it  failed  to  rouse  the  British 
camp.  Startled  by  this  unexpected 
contre- temps y  the  men  reached  the 
shore.  Washington,  feeling  the  ur- 
gent necessity  for  despatch,  sent  one 
of  his  aides-de-camp  to  hurry  up  the 
troops  in  march.     By  mistake  he  gave 


the  order  to  all  who  had  been  left 
behind.  In  the  midst  of  embar- 
rassment and  confusion  at  the 
ferry,  caused  by  the  change  of 
tide  and  of  wind,  which  beat  back 
the  sail -boats,  the  whole  rear- 
guard   arrived.       "  Good    God  ! 

General  Mifflin !  "  cried  Washington,  "  I  fear  you  have  ruined  us 
by  so  unseasonably  withdrawing  the  troops  from  the  advance 
lines."  Mifflin  somewhat  warmly  explained  that  he  had  only  fol- 
lowed orders.     *'  It  is  a  dreadful  mistake,"  exclaimed  Washington; 


THE   RETREAT   FROM   LONG   ISLAND. 


*"77l°']  RETREAT    FROM    LONG    ISLAND.  l8l 

"  and  unless  you  can  regain  the  picket  lines  before  your  absence 
is  discovered,  the  most  disastrous  consequences  may  follow." 
Mifflin  hastened  back,  but  again  the  dense  fog  and  Providence 
had  favored  them,  so  that  though  nearly  an  hour  had  intervened, 
the  desertion  of  their  posts  had  not  been  noticed  by  the  enemy. 
At  length  their  own  time  came,  and  the  last  boat  pulled  from  the 
shore.  The  strain  of  the  night  was  over  and  the  army  was  saved. 
*'  What  with  the  greatness  of  the  stake,  the  darkness  of  the  night, 
the  uncertainty  of  the  design,  and  the  extreme  hazard  of  the  issue," 
says  one,  "  it  would  be  difficult  to  conceive  a  more  deeply  solemn 
scene  than  had  transpired." 

This  timely  deliverance  moved  every  pious  American  heart  to 
profoundest  gratitude,  for  if  once  the  English  fleet  had  moved  up 
the  East  River  and  cut  off  communication  between  New  York  and 
Brooklyn,  nothing  could  have  saved  the  army  from  capture. 
Howe,  not  supposing  an  escape  possible,  had  taken  no  precautions 
against  such  an  event.  It  is  said  that  a  tory  woman  sent  her 
negro  servant  to  inform  the  British  of  the  movements  of  the 
patriot  army  ;  but  he  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Hessians,  who,  not 
understanding  a  word  of  English,  kept  him  until  morning.  After 
daybreak,  and  the  fog  had  lifted,  a  British  captain,  with  a  handful 
of  men,  stealthily  crept  down  through  the  fallen  trees,  and,  crawl- 
ing over  the  entrenchments,  found  them  deserted.  A  troop  of 
horse  hurried  to  the  river  and  captured  the  last  boat,  manned  by 
three  vagabonds  who  had  staid  behind  for  plunder. 

Washington,  conscious  that,  with  the  weakened  and  now  dispir- 
ited army  under  his  command,  it  was  impossible  to  hold  New 
York,  wished  to  evacuate  the  city,  but  Congress  would  not  con- 
sent. While  awaiting  the  movements  of  Howe,  Captain  Nathan 
Hale  of  Connecticut  consented  to  visit  the  English  camp,  and,  if 
possible,  find  out  their  plans.  He  passed  the  lines  safely  and 
gained  much  valuable  information,  but  on  his  return  journey  was 
recognized  by  a  tory  relative,  who  arrested  him.  He  was  taken 
to  Howe's  headquarters,  and  the  next  morning  executed  as  a  spy. 
No  clergyman  was  allowed  to  visit  him,  nor  was  he  permitted 
even  a  Bible  in  his  last  hours.  His  farewell  letters  to  his  mother 
and  sister  were  destroyed.  The  brutality  of  his  enemies  did  not, 
however,  crush  his  noble  spirit,  for  his  last  words  were,  "  I  only 
regret  that  I  have  but  one  life  to  give  to  my  country." 

Having  occupied  Buchanan's  and  Montressor's  islands,  now 
Ward's   and    Randall's,    Clinton,  with   a  heavy  body  of  troops, 


1 82  INDEPENDENCE    YEAR.  [^1776^' 

crossed  the  East  River  under  the  fire  of  the  fleet  early  Sunday 
morning,  September  15,  and  landed  at  Kip's  Bay,  at  the  foot  of 
the  present  Thirty-fourth  street.  The  American  troops  at  this 
point  fled  from  the  entrenchments.  It  was  all-important  that  the 
position  should  be  held,  as  Putnam  was  in  the  city  below  with 
four  thousand  men,  and  time  must  be  gained  for  them  to  escape. 
Washington  came  galloping  among  the  fugitives  and  rallied  them. 
But  when  two  or  three  score  red-coats  came  in  sight,  they  broke 
again  without  firing  a  shot  and  scattered  in  the  wildest  terror. 
Losing  all  self-command  at  the  sight  of  such  cowardice,  Wash- 
ington dashed  forward  toward  the  enemy,  exclaiming,  *'  Are  these 
the  men  with  whom  I  am  to  defend  America  ?  "  General  Greene 
writes  of  this  scene,  that  the  poltroons  *'  left  His  Excellency  on  the 
ground,  within  eighty  yards  of  the  enemy,  so  vexed  at  the  infa- 
mous conduct  of  his  troops  that  he  sought  death  rather  than 
life."  He  might  indeed  have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  British, 
so  overcome  was  he  by  the  dastardly  conduct  of  his  soldiers,  had 
not  an  aide-de-camp  seized  his  horse  by  the  bridle  and  hurried 
him  away.  Rallying  his  self-possession,  Washington  hastened  to 
look  after  the  safety  of  the  rest  of  the  army.  It  was  a  moment 
of  extreme  peril.  Fortunately,  on  landing,  Howe,  Clinton,  and 
some  others  called  at  the  house  of  Robert  Murray  for  refresh- 
ments. The  owner,  who  was  a  Quaker,  was  absent,  but  his  wife, 
a  staunch  whig,  regaled  them  with  such  an  abundance  of  cake 
and  wine,  and  listened  with  such  admirable  attention  to  their 
humorous  descriptions  of  her  countrymen's  panic,  that  their  appe- 
tite and  vanity  got  the  better  of  their  judgment,  and  kept  them 
long  at  her  delightful  entertainment.  Meanwhile,  Putnam  was 
hurrying  his  men  along  the  Bloomingdale  road,  not  a  mile  distant, 
under  a  burning  sun,  through  clouds  of  dust,  and  liable  at  any 
moment  to  be  raked  by  the  fire  of  the  English  ships  anchored  in 
the  Hudson.  Thanks  to  the  wit  of  the  good  Mrs.  Murray,  the 
British  troops  came  up  only  in  time  to  send  a  few  parting  shots 
at  their  rear-guard.  Washington  collected  his  army  on  Harlem 
Heights. 

That  night  the  wearied  troops  lay  on  the  open  ground,  in  the 
midst  of  a  cold,  driving  rain,  without  tent  or  shelter.  Anxious  to 
encourage  his  disheartened  men,  Washington,  the  same  evening, 
ordered  Silas  Talbot,  in  charge  of  a  fire-ship  in  the  Hudson,  to 
make  a  descent  upon  the  British  fleet.  Accordingly,  this  brave 
captain,  dropping  down  with  the  tide,  steered  his  vessel  alongside 


^1776^]  OCCUPATION    OF    HARLEM    HEIGHTS.  1 83 

the  Renomm^.  Stopping  to  grapple  his  antagonist  surely,  and 
to  make  certain  of  firing  the  trains  of  powder,  he  was  himself 
fearfully  burned  before  he  could  drop  into  the  water.  It  was  an 
awful  scene.  The  British  ships  poured  their  broadsides  upon  his 
little  boat  as  he  was  rapidly  rowed  away,  while  huge  billows  of 
flame  bursting  out  from  the  fire-ship  lighted  up  the  fleet  and  the 
harbor  with  terrible  distinctness.  From  every  side  boats  put  off 
to  the  rescue  of  the  endangered  vessel,  which  was  finally  brought 
safely  away.  But  the  entire  British  fleet  slipped  their  moorings 
and  quitted  the  stream. 

Early  the  next  morning,  the  advance  guard  of  the  British  de- 
scended into  Harlem  Plains,  drove  in  the  American  pickets,  and 
sounded  their  bugles  as  if  in  defiance.  Washington  rode  to  the 
outpost,  near  where  is  now  the  Convent  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  and 
made  his  preparations  to  teach  them  a  lesson.  Engaging  their 
attention  by  a  skirmish  in  front,  he  sent  Colonel  Knowlton  and 
Major  Leitch  to  march  around  through  the  woods  and  cut  off"  their 
retreat.  A  spirited  contest  ensued.  The  enemy  were  driven 
back  upon  the  main  body  with  great  loss,  while  the  Continentals 
suffered  little.  The  success,  however,  was  saddened  by  the  death 
of  both  the  commanding  officers,  killed  in  the  moment  of  triumph- 
antly leading  to  victory  the  troops  who  the  day  before  had  fled  so 
ignominiously. 

The  British,  on  their  entry  into  New  York,  were  received 
by  the  tories  with  the  greatest  enthusiasm.  Scarcely  had  they 
settled  down  in  what  they  hoped  would  be  snug  winter-quar- 
ters, when  a  fire  broke  out,  which  destroyed  about  five  hundred 
houses.  The  whigs  were  accused  of  the  incendiarism,  and  the 
enraged  soldiers,  with  their  bayonets,  actually  tossed  several  per- 
sons into  the  flames.  They  also  hanged  up  one  man  by  his  heels 
until  he  died,  discovering  afterwards,  however,  that  he  was  a 
staunch  loyalist. 

Washington  immediately  took  great  pains  to  fortify  his  posi- 
tion on  Harlem  Heights,  throwing  up  a  series  of  entrenchments 
reaching  from  Harlem  River  to  the  Hudson,  and  protecting  the 
right  wing  by  Fort  Washington.  The  army,  however,  was  in  a 
desperate  condition.  The  term  of  service  being  nearly  expired,  it 
seemed  on  the  eve  of  dissolution.  The  disheartened  troops  aban- 
doned their  colors  by  hundreds ;  whole  regiments  even  returning 
to  their  homes.  The  Connecticut  militia  was  reduced  from  six 
thousand  to  two  thousand.     "Among  many  of  the  subordinate 


1 84  INDEPENDENCE    YEAR.  [^""^jie?^' 

officers,"  says  Lossing,  "greed  usurped  the  place  of  patriotism. 
Officers  were  elected  on  condition  that  they  should  throw  their 
pay  and  rations  into  a  joint-stock  for  the  benefit  of  a  company ; 
surgeons  sold  recommendations  for  furloughs  for  able-bodied  men 
at  sixpence  each,  and  a  captain  was  cashiered  for  stealing  blankets 
from  his  soldiers.  Men  went  out  in  squads  to  plunder  from  friend 
or  foe,  and  immorality  prevailed  throughout  the  American  army." 
The  soldiers,  too,  had  lost  confidence  in  their  principal  officers, 
Washington  alone  commanding  their  fullest  respect  and  unwaver- 
ing devotion.  The  men  were  true  to  him,  and  he  was  true  to 
duty.     He  was  already  fast  becoming  the  hope  of  the  country. 

General  Howe,  unwilling  to  attack  the  American  army  in  its 
strong  position  on  Harlem  Heights,  determined  to  get  in  its  rear. 
Leaving  his  own  lines  in  front  of  New  York  well  defended,  he  ac- 
cordingly moved  up  the  Sound,  and  disembarked  his  troops  at 
Throg's  Point,  Westchester  county,  while  his  fleet  passed  up  the 
Hudson  to  cut  off*  all  communication  with  the  western  bank  of  the 
river.  Washington  was  prepared  for  this  movement,  which  he 
had  already  foreseen,  and  immediately  ordered  troops  to  occupy 
the  causeways  leading  out  from  the  little  peninsula  on  which  the 
British  were  encamped.  The  bridge  being  removed,  and  his  ad- 
vance thus  cut  off,  Howe  crossed  in  his  boats  to  Pell's  Point  (Pel- 
ham),  and  landing  again,  moved  toward  New  Rochelle,  where  he 
was  joined  by  the  Hessians  under  Knyphausen.  He  now  decided 
to  occupy  White  Plains.  Meanwhile,  Washington  had  evacuated 
Manhattan  Island,  and,  crossing  to  Fordham  Heights,  marched 
northward  to  head  off  the  British.  "The  modern  Fabius"  kept 
his  army  on  the  high  hills  along  the  western  bank  of  the  Bronx, 
occupying  in  succession  a  series  of  entrenched  camps  reaching 
to  White  Plains,  a  distance  of  thirteen  miles.  The  two  armies 
marched  parallel  to  each  other,  and  there  were  frequent  skir- 
mishes between  the  outposts,  in  which  Washington  took  care  that 
the  Americans,  who  were  now  in  fine  spirits,  should  have  the  ad- 
vantage. Moving  on  the  shorter  line,  Washington  was  the  first 
to  reach  White  Plains,  where  he  threw  up  breastworks,  meanwhile 
preparing  an  entrenched  camp  in  his  rear  on  the  heights  of  North 
Castle.  Howe,  coming  up,  threw  a  part  of  his  troops  across  the 
Bronx,  and  carried  Chatterton's  Hill.  The  patriot  militia  under 
McDougal  held  their  rude  breastworks  over  an  hour,  and  then 
retreated  in  good  order  to  the  main  line.  The  apparent  strength 
of  Washington's  entrenchments,  which  consisted,  it  is  said,  in  part. 


Oct.  31.-1 
1776.   J 


OPERATIONS    IN    THE    HIGHLANDS. 


185 


HUDSON  RIVER    Southern  Part. 


of  heaps  of  cornstalks  covered  with  dirt  and  sod,  caused  Howe  to 
await  his  reinforcements  under  Lord  Percy. 

On  the  night  of  the  31st,  amid  a  tempest  of  wind  and  rain, 
Washington  quietly  fell  back  upon  the  Heights  of  North  Castle. 
On  this  formidable  position,  Howe  dared 
not  risk  an  assault,  but  withdrew  to 
Fordham  Heights.  Washington,  ap- 
prehending that  the  British  would  next 
carry  the  war  into  the  Jerseys,  and  per- 
haps move  on  Philadelphia,  crossed  the 
Hudson  and  fixed  his  head-quarters  in 
the  Highlands,  leaving  General  Lee  at 
North  Castle  with  about  seven  thou- 
sand men,  until  Howe's  movements 
were  more  fully  developed. 

During  the  encampment  at  White 
Plains  an  incident  occurred  which  curi- 
ously illustrates  the  character  of  General 
Lee,  then  the  most  admired  officer  in 
the  army,  and  whose  coming  had  been 
looked  for  as  that  of  "  a  flaming  angel 
from  heaven."  The  story  is  thus  told 
by  Sears :  General  Lee  lodged  in  a  small 
house,  near  which  General  Washington 
occasionally  passed  when  observing  the 
dispositions  of  the  enemy.  One  day, 
accompanied  by  some  of  his  officers,  he 
called  on  General  Lee  and  dined  with 
him  ;  but  no  sooner  was  he  gone  than 
Lee,  addressing  his  aide-de-camp,  said : 
"  You  must  look  me  out  another  place, 
for  I  shall  have  Washington  and  all  his 
puppies  continually  calling  upon  me, 
and  they  will  eat  me  up."  Next  day, 
seeing  the  commander-in-chief  and  his 
suite  coming  that  way,  and  suspecting 
another  visit,  he  ordered  his  servant  to 
write  on  the  door  with  chalk,  "■  No  victuals  dressed  here  to-day." 
Perceiving  this  inscription,  General  Washington  and  his  officers 
rode  off,  not  a  little  amused  at  the  incident  and  the  oddities  of 
Lee's  character. 


Route  of  American  Army.    III. 
Route  of  British  Army.        OOB. 


1 86  INDEPENDENCE    YEAR.  [^ 


ov.  16, 
1776. 


The  scene  now  shifts  to  Fort  Washington  on  the  banks  of  the 
Hudson.  A  little  force  of  three  thousand  men  was  here 
environed  by  the  enemy  in  overwhelming  numbers.  Washington 
had  been  opposed  to  holding  this  post  after  the  retreat  of  the 
Continental  army,  but  Congress  urged  that  it  must  be  maintained^ 
and  General  Greene,  who  was  in  command  at  Fort  Lee,  fully 
acquiesced  in  this  view.  Washington  most  reluctantly  yielded 
his  own  opinion.  On  the  eve  before  the  final  attack  by  the 
British,  he  was  crossing  the  river  to  personally  inspect  the  forti- 
fications, when  he  met  Generals  Greene  and  Putnam.  They 
assured  him  that  ''  the  men  were  in  high  spirits  and  all  would  be 
well."  It  was  already  too  late  to  evacuate  the  fort.  Howe's 
plans  were  complete. 

The  advanced  line  of  entrenchments  before  the  fort  was  about 
seven  miles  long  and  weakly  defended.  Early  on  the  morning  of 
November  i6th,  this  was  attacked  at  four  different  points.  The 
Americans,  though  outnumbered  five  to  one,  made  a  gallant 
defence,  but  Cornwallis  carried  Laurel  Hill ;  Percy  and  Stirling 
on  the  south  swept  all  before  them  ;  while  on  the  north,  Knyphau- 
sen  and  Rail  with  the  Hessians,  clambering  up  the  heights,  catch- 
ing hold  of  branches  and  bushes,  pushing  through  the  under- 
brush, and  tearing  away  the  fallen  trees,  under  a  murderous  fire, 
pressed  to  within  one  hundred  paces  of  the  fort  and  demanded  its 
surrender.  Washington,  who  was  watching  the  fight  from  Fort 
Lee,  "  wept  with  the  tenderness  of  a  child  "  as  he  saw  his  men,, 
while  begging  for  quarter,  bayoneted  by  the  brutal  Hessians* 
He  sent  over  word,  promising  to  bring  off"  the  garrison  in  the 
night  if  they  could  only  hold  out  till  then  ;  but  there  was  no 
hope.  Magaw,  the  commander,  could  get  but  half  an  hour's 
delay.  The  troops  crowded  into  the  fort  were  disheartened,  and 
would  no  longer  man  the  ramparts.  The  American  flag  was 
hauled  down.  Though  the  garrison  had  lost  but  one  hundred 
and  fifty  men  and  the  British  five  hundred,  yet  twenty-six 
hundred  prisoners  were  given  up,  with  artillery  and  stores  which 
were  invaluable  to  the  patriot  cause. 

Washington  now  turned  all  his  thought  to  the  probable  cam- 
paign in  New  Jersey.  He  gave  orders  to  immediately  evacuate 
Fort  Lee,  as  the  plan  of  preventing  the  English  fleet  from  ascend- 
ing the  Hudson  was  now  defeated  by  the  capture  of  the  more  im- 
portant fort.  Greene,  however,  was  too  slow.  November  2oth, 
Cornwallis  crossed  the  Hudson,  with  a  strong  detachment,  five 


•^°v-20  5PgDec.8.]        RETREAT    THROUGH    NEW    JERSEY.  187 

miles  above  Fort  Lee,  his  marines  dragging  his  cannon  up  the 
steep  ascent  to  the  top  of  fhe  Palisades.  A  countryman  brought 
the  news  to  Greene,  who  sprang  from  his  bed  and  took  to  flight 
with  his  men,  leaving  behind  them  tents  standing,  blankets  un- 
rolled, and  camp  kettles  over  the  fire.  Washington,  hearing  of 
the  danger,  seized  the  bridge  across  the  Hackensack,  and  covered 
the  retreat  so  that  all  the  fugitives,  except  a  few  stragglers,  escaped. 

For  eighteen  long,  weary  days,  Washington  and  his  shattered 
army  continued  to  fall  back  before  the  conquering  forces  of  Corn- 
wallis.  Many  of  the  patriots  had  no  shoes,  and  their  footsteps  on 
the  frozen  ground  were  traced  in  blood.  There  were  but  three 
thousand  men  in  all,  on  a  level  country,  with  no  entrenchments, 
and  not  a  tool  for  throwing  up  defences.  Newark,  New  Bruns- 
wick, Princeton,  and  Trenton,  marked  the  successive  stages  in, 
this  bitter  flight.  The  advance  of  Cornwallis  entered  Newark  as 
Washington's  rear-guard  was  leaving.  At  Brunswick,  the  term 
of  service  of  the  Jersey  and  Maryland  brigades  expired,  and  they 
refused  to  stay  longer  under  the  flag.  At  daybreak,  December  ist, 
the  disbanded  soldiers  scattered  over  the  fields  seeking  the  shelter 
of  the  woods,  and  the  little  remnant  of  the  patriot  army  broke  down 
the  bridge  over  the  Raritan,  as  Cornwallis's  cavalry  dashed  into 
their  late  camp  through  the  still  smoking  embers  of  their  fires. 
At  Princeton,  Cornwallis  was  joined  by  Howe  with  fresh  troops. 
The  British  unaccountably  delayed  here  for  seventeen  hours. 
When  they  at  last  reached  Trenton,  December  8th,  it  was  only  to 
see  across  the  deep,  angry  Delaware,  the  Continental  rear  watch- 
ing their  approach.  To  cross  was  impossible,  for,  under  Wash- 
ington's orders,  every  boat  for  seventy  miles  along  the  stream  had 
been  taken  to  the  southern  shore  and  placed  under  guard. 

During  this  march,  messenger  after  messenger,  order  after 
order,  had  been  sent  to  General  Lee,  to  hasten  from  North  Castle 
to  the  help  of  his  commander-in-chief.  Ambitious,  flattered  with 
the  idea  of  a  separate  command,  and  with  the  praises  of  those  who 
were  continually  contrasting  his  audacity  with  the  caution  of 
Washington,  Lee  lingered  behind,  hopeful  of  accomplishing  some 
brilliant  feat.  It  was  not  till  December  4th  that  he  crossed  the 
Hudson.  He  then  moved  along  by  the  British  flank  about  twenty 
miles  away,  watching  for  a  chance  to  "  reconquer  the  Jerseys." 
But  his  presumption  was  soon  to  be  bitterly  punished.  On  the 
night  of  the  12th  he  stopped  at  Baskingridge  with  only  a  small 
guard.     He  did  not  breakfast  till  ten  o'clock,  and  then  tarried  to 


1 88 


INDEPENDENCE    YEAR. 


rNov.  to  Dec. 
L        1776. 


write  to  Gates  a  letter  full  of  complaint  and  treason.  It  was  not 
yet  sealed  when  a  cry  of  "  The  British !  "  was  raised.  Instead  of 
making  an  effort  to  escape,  the  coward  came  out,  bareheaded,  in 
slippers  and  blanket-coat,  and  begged  for  his  life.  The  dragoons 
carried  him  off  in  this  unsoldierly  plight,  without  change,  to  their 
camp.  Sullivan,  who  had  now  been  exchanged,  brought  the  army 
safely  to  the  American  quarters.  Lee's  reputation  at  this  time 
was  high,  and  when  Congress  learned  that  he  was  to  be  tried  as  a 
deserter,  it  set  apart  six  British  officers,  then  prisoners,  to  await 
his  fate.  This  decided  measure  caused  Lee  to  be  released  on 
parole.  (December,  1777.) — Time  has  revealed  the  fact,  however, 
that  while  in  custody  he  offered  to  betray  his  adopted  country. 

A  carefully-prepared  project  for  the  con- 
quest of  America,  in  Lee's  handwriting, 
and  endorsed  by  the  secretary  of  the 
Howes,  as  ''Mr.  Lee's  Plan,"  has  lately 
been  discovered  in  England,  which  con- 
clusively proves  his  treason. 

The  condition  of  the  country  was  now 
fearful  in  the  extreme.  New  Jersey  was 
overrun  by  the  British  army.  The  whigs 
were  forced  to  hide  where  they  could,  and 
leave  their  families  to  the  insults  of  a 
brutal  soldiery.  Houses,  barns,  and  fences 
were  burned,  orchards  cut  down,  crops 
and  cattle  carried  off;  women  were  sub- 
jected to  every  species  of  insult;  house- 
holds were  plundered  even  of  the  cradles 
in  which  infants  were  rocked  to  sleep ; 
and  ''  children,  old  men,  and  women  were 
left  in  their  shirts,  without  a  blanket  to 
cover  them,  under  the  inclemency  of  win- 
ter." Many  of  these  families  had  printed  protections,  signed  by 
order  of  the  British  commander ;  but  they  availed  nothing.  The 
Hessians  could  not,  and  the  British  would  not,  understand  them. 
The  former  were  utterly  lawless.  Without  ceremony  they  entered 
dwellings,  ordered  the  family  out  of  their  chairs  at  the  breakfast, 
dinner,  or  supper  table,  and,  seating  themselves  in  their  places, 
demanded  the  best  the  house  could  afford.  Their  appetite  satis- 
fied, they  roamed  through  the  various  apartments,  confiscating 
every  article  which  caught  their  greed  or  fancy,  with  a  simple 


HESSIAN   GRENADIER. 


^Ij'jI^']  campaign    in    PENNSYLVANIA.  1 89 

"  Dis  is  goot  for  Hesse-man,"  and  happy  for  the  trembling  in- 
mates if  the  visit  was  not  concluded  with  personal  indignities. 
De  Heister  was  the  ''  Arch-plunderer,"  and  set  the  example  to  all 
his  followers.  He  had  even  the  meanness  to  advertise  the  house 
in  which  he  lived  in  New  York  for  public  sale,  although  it  had 
been  voluntarily  given  him  for  his  use  by  its  owner,  a  true  loyalist. 
Worse  than  all,  the  American  soldiers,  infected  by  the  general 
demoralization,  took  upon  themselves  to  sack  the  houses  of  tories 
and  loyalists,  so  that,  between  both  armies,  no  property  was  secure. 
Washington  was  finally  compelled  to  issue  orders  imposing  the 
severest  penalties  upon  *'  any  officer  found  plundering  the  inhabi- 
tants, under  the  pretence  of  their  being  tories." 

In  November,  Howe  had  issued  a  proclamation  ofifering  full 
pardon  to  every  one  who  should  within  sixty  days  submit  to  the 
royal  authority.  It  was  well  timed.  For  ten  days  after  the 
issuing  of  this  proclamation  two  or  three  hundred  persons  daily 
flocked  to  the  royal  camp  to  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the 
king.  Among  them  were  distinguished  persons ;  as,  for  example, 
Samuel  Tucker,  who  had  been  president  of  the  Provincial  Con- 
gress and  a  most  trusted  patriot.  Even  John  Dickinson  refused 
to  accept  from  Delaware  a  seat  in  the  Continental  Congress.  To 
deepen  the  gloom  still  more,  Clinton,  with  four  brigades  and  a 
fleet  under  Parker,  sailed  for  Rhode  Island  and  landed  at  New- 
port the  day  that  Washington  crossed  the  Delaware.  That  State 
was  now  entirely  under  their  control.  Troops  that  were  destined 
for  Washington  were  detained  in  New  England,  and  several 
American  armed  vessels  were  kept  blockaded  in  Providence 
River.  Along  the  Delaware  the  British  army,  twenty-seven 
thousand  strong,  admirably  equipped,  was  now  reaching  its 
advance  posts  opposite  Philadelphia,  and  it  was  expected  that  the 
English  fleet  would  soon  ascend  the  river.  Congress,  alarmed, 
fled  from  Philadelphia  amidst  the  jeers  of  tories  and  the  maledic- 
tions of  patriots.  Howe  had  already  written  home,  "  Peace 
must  be  the  consequence  of  our  successes."  No  wonder  that  the 
hearts  of  men  misgave  them  in  this  hour  of  trial.  Yet  there  were 
still  patriots  whose  hopes  were  bright  and  whose  courage  stood 
high.  John  Adams  wrote,  ''  I  do  not  doubt  of  ultimate  success." 
Washington  remained  calm  and  unmoved,  and  his  serene  patience 
touched  the  hearts  of  all.  Misfortune  only  mellowed  and  ripened 
his  magnificent  faith,  and  in  all  that  he  said  or  did  there  seemed 
an  inspiration. 


190  INDEPENDENCE    YEAR.  l^me?' 

It  was  in  the  midst  of  winter ;  the  English  had  gone  into  can- 
tonments reaching  from  Brunswick  to  below  Burlington.  Howe 
was  in  New  York,  where  all  was  now  as  merry  as  a  marriage- bell. 
British  and  Royalist  vied  in  making  the  city  gay  with  festival  and 
flag,  in  honor  of  the  approaching  decoration  of  Lord  Howe  as 
Knight  of  the  Bath,  conferred  upon  him  in  return  for  his  distin- 
guished services.  The  officers  in  their  comfortable  quarters  were 
arranging  to  pass  away  the  idle  hours  in  theatrical  performances 
for  the  benefit  of  the  widows  and  orphans  of  the  war.  Cornwallis, 
thinking  the  war  over,  had  sent  his  baggage  on  board  a  vessel  to 
return  home.  Throughout  the  British  army  there  was  the  pro- 
foundest  contempt  for  the  Americans.  Grant,  who  was  left  in 
command  of  Cornwallis's  division,  declared  that  with  a  corporal's 
guard  he  could  march  anywhere  in  the  Jerseys.  **  Washington's 
men,"  he  wrote,  "  have  neither  shoes,  nor  stockings,  nor  blankets ; 
they  are  almost  naked,  and  are  dying  of  cold  and  want  of  food." 
So  he  argued  they  were  not  to  be  feared.  How  little  he  realized 
the  stuff  of  which  patriots  are  made ! 

Rail,  who  was  stationed  at  Trenton  with  about  fifteen  hundred 
men,  principally  Hessians,  made  light  of  a  rumor  that  he  was 
likely  to  be  attacked.  One  of  his  officers  having  suggested  that 
it  would  be  well  to  throw  up  some  works  to  provide  against  a 
possibility  of  assault,  he  laughed  the  idea  to  scorn.  "  An  assault 
by  the  rebels !  Works !  pooh  !  Let  them  come.  We'll  at  them 
with  the  bayonet."  "  Herr  Colonel,"  urged  the  more  prudent 
major,  "  it  will  cost  almost  nothing,  and  if  it  does  no  good,  it  can 
do  no  harm."  Rail  only  laughed  the  more  heartily  at  such  a 
ridiculous  project,  and,  turning  on  his  heel,  sauntered  off  to  hear 
the  musicians,  whom  he  kept  almost  constantly  at  their  instru- 
ments for  his  own  entertainment.  ''  Whether  his  men  were  well 
or  ill-clad,  whether  they  kept  their  muskets  clean  or  their  ammu- 
nition in  good  order,  was  of  little  moment  to  him ;  he  never 
inquired  about  it ;  but  the  music !  that  was  the  thing !  the  haut- 
boys— he  never  could  have  enough  of  them." 

Washington  was  resolved,  as  he  said,  "  to  clip  the  wings  "  of 
the  Hessians,  who,  by  their  brutality  and  cupidity,  had  excited 
such  universal  detestation.  The  approaching  Christmas,  a  time 
of  general  festivity  among  the  Germans,  offered  a  favorable  op- 
portunity. The  plans  were  carefully  laid.  Washington  was  to 
cross  the  Delaware  about  nine  miles  above  Trenton,  and,  march- 
ing down  the  river,  fall  upon  the  troops  at  that  place.     Ewing, 


Dec.  25-26. 
1776. 


WASHINGTON    CROSSES    THE    DELAWARE. 


191 


with  the  Pennsylvania  militia,  was  to  cross  a  mile  below  the  town, 
and,  securing  the  bridge  over  the  Assanpink,  a  creek  flowing 
along  the  south,  cut  off  the  retreat  of  the  enemy.  General  Gates 
was  to  take  command  of  troops  under  General  Putnam,  Cadwal- 
Jader,  and  Colonel  Reed,  and,  crossing  at  Bristol,  to  fall  upon 
Count  Donop  at  Bordentown.  The  night  was  dark  and  stormy, 
with  sleet  and  snow ;  the  river  angry  and  threatening,  with  cakes 


WASHINGTON   CROSSING  THE  DELAWARE. 


of  grinding  ice ;  so  bitter  was  the  cold  that  two  of  the  men  were 
frozen  stiff  in  death.  Putnam  was  detained  at  Philadelphia  by 
rumors  of  insurrection.  Cadwallader,  honest  and  zealous,  came 
down  to  the  river,  but  found  the  floating  ice  so  thick  that  he  sent 
back  word  he  could  not  cross.  Ewing  did  not  even  make  an 
attempt.  Reed,  discouraged,  went  into  the  enemy's  lines  at  Bur- 
lington, and,  it  is  said,  obtained  a  protection  from  Donop.  Gates, 
impatient  of  control,  disobeyed  orders,  and  set  out  for  Baltimore 
to  intrigue  with  Congress.  There  was  different  stuff  in  Washing- 
ton and  his  officers.  Here  were  Stark,  Greene,  Stirling,  Sullivan, 
Knox,  Monroe,  Hamilton — heroes  all. 

Just  as  they  reached  the  river,  a  courier  came  announcing  the 
failure  of  Gates.  He  had  easily  traced  the  track  of  the  army  by 
the  blood  on  the  snow  from  those  whose  shoes  were  broken.     All 


192  INDEPENDENCE    YEAR.  l^nii^' 

the  burden  was  on  Washington,  but  there  was  no  thought  of  turn- 
ing back.  Anxious  and  troubled,  he  stood  on  the  shore  watching 
the  boats  as  they  were  ferried  across  by  Marblehead  boatmen,  the 
same  who  had  brought  the  army  over  from  Brooklyn  on  the 
eventful  morning  of  August  30. 

It  was  gray  twilight  before  the  men  and  the  guns  were  in  line 
on  the  opposite  bank.  Then  came  nine  miles  march  through  the 
howling  storm.  Sullivan  led  his  men  by  the  river ;  Washington 
conducted  another  column  along  the  upper  Pennington  road. 
The  former,  finding  that  the  arms  of  his  men  were  wet,  sent  a 
messenger  to  Washington  to  report  the  fact.  The  orderly  re- 
turned, dismayed  by  the  sudden  reply  he  had  received,  to  ''go 
back  and  tell  his  general  to  use  the  bayonet."  They  were  near 
the  town.  It  was  broad  daylight.  But  the  storm  had  driven  even 
the  sentries  inside.  As  Washington  approached  the  village,  he 
hailed  a  wood-chopper  by  the  roadside,  and  asked,  ''  Which  way 
is  the  Hessian  picket?"  ^'  I  don't  know,"  was  the  surly  reply.  An 
officer  interposed,  ''  You  may  tell ;  this  is  General  Washington." 
Dropping  his  axe,  and  raising  his  eyes  to  heaven,  the  patriot 
laborer  exclaimed,  "  God  bless  and  prosper  you !  The  picket  is  in 
that  house,  and  yonder  stands  the  sentry."  The  advance  rushed 
forward.  There  was  a  shout,  ''  Der  feind  !  der  feind !  Heraus  1 
heraus  !"  (The  enemy  !  Turn  out !)  The  tardy  sentries  sought 
to  make  a  stand,  but  the  rush  swept  them  along.  Just  then  there 
came  the  sharp  rattle  of  Sullivan's  guns  from  the  lower  town. 
The  drums  beat  the  alarm.  The  town  was  in  an  uproar.  The 
Hessians,  aroused,  flew  to  arms,  some  firing  from  the  windows, 
and  some  hastily  forming  their  ranks.  The  British  light  horse 
and  about  five  hundred  Hessians  and  Chasseurs  fled  by  the  bridge 
across  the  Assanpink. 

Rail  had  received  word  the  day  before  that  he  would  be  at- 
tacked that  night,  and  about  dusk  a  party  had  come  swiftly  out 
of  the  woods,  and,  firing  upon  one  of  his  pickets,  departed.  He 
had  ordered  his  men  into  their  ranks,  strengthened  the  outposts, 
and  himself  scoured  the  woods.  Finding  nothing,  and  thinking 
this  all  that  there  was  to  be,  he  had  gone  to  a  Christmas  supper  and 
spent  the  night  in  card-playing,  drinking,  and  revelry.  At  early 
dawn  a  messenger  came  from  a  tory  with  a  note  bearing  news  of 
the  crossing  of  the  river  by  the  American  forces.  The  negro  ser- 
vant, obeying  his  master's  orders,  refused  him  admittance.  Know- 
ing the  importance  of  the  message,  he  prevailed  on  the  servant  ta 


Dfc^|«-]  BATTLE    OF    TRENTON.  1 95 

carry  the  note  to  the  officer.  Rail,  on  receiving  it,  excited  by 
wine  and  the  play,  thrust  it  unopened  into  his  pocket.  But  now 
came  a  different  warning.  The  rattle  of  the  guns  was  not  to  be 
mistaken.  Only  half  sobered  by  the  sudden  surprise  and  the 
bitter  cold,  he  attempted  to  rally  his  men.  Captain  Washington 
and  Lieutenant  Monroe  rushed  forward  with  a  party  and  cap- 
tured the  guns  in  front  of  his  quarters,  as  the  gunners  stood  with 
lighted  matches  in  their  hands  ready  to  fire.  Washington  and 
Sullivan  had  now  joined  forces,  and  Forest's  battery  of  six  guns 
was  opened  upon  the  dismayed  Hessians  at  only  three  hundred 
paces.  Washington,  himself,  was  in  front  directing  every  move- 
ment. Rail,  however,  extricated  his  men  and  drew  them  up  in  an 
orchard  east  of  the  village.  By  a  quick  movement.  Hand's  regi- 
ment of  riflemen  was  thrown  on  his  rear.  Even  now,  with  a  des- 
perate resolve,  he  might  have  cut  his  way  out ;  but  he  could  not 
think  of  fleeing  from  his  despised  foes,  and  the  Hessians  were  loath 
to  give  up  the  booty  they  had  collected  in  their  quarters.  The 
word  was  given  to  charge.  In  the  midst  Rail  was  struck  by  a  ball 
and  fell  from  his  horse.  His  troops,  quickly  hemmed  in  by  the  ex- 
ulting Americans,  surrendered.  It  was  an  hour  of  triumph.  "  The 
Lord  of  hosts,"  wrote  the  praeses  of  the  Pennsylvania  German 
Lutherans,  ''  heard  the  cries  of  the  distressed,  and  sent  an  angel 
for  their  deliverance."  Washington,  overwhelmed  by  supreme 
joy,  clasped  his  hands  and  raised  his  eyes  gleaming  with  thankful- 
ness to  heaven.  Nearly  one  thousand  prisoners,  twelve  hundred 
small  arms,  six  guns,  and  all  the  standards  of  the  brigade,  were 
the  trophies  of  this  victory.  Had  the  other  detachments  carried 
out  the  part  assigned  to  them,  there  would  have  been  a  complete 
capture  at  Trenton,  while  the  various  posts  along  the  Delaware 
would  have  shared  the  same  fate. 

Washington  dared  not  stay  in  the  quarters  so  hardly  won, 
as  the  enemy,  alarmed  by  the  fugitives  from  the  battle,  would 
soon  gather.  Before  leaving  Trenton,  however,  accompanied 
by  Greene,  he  visited  Rail.  Here  the  soldier  was  lost  in  the 
Christian,  and  the  dying  hours  of  the-  Hessian  officer  were 
soothed  by  the  sympathy  of  his  generous  foe.  "  The  remem- 
brance of  the  deed,"  says  Lossing,  "  seems  to  play,  like  an  electric 
spark,  around  the  pen  of  the  historian  while  recording  it."  Back 
through  the  same  storm  amid  which  it  had  come  the  little  army 
now  toiled,  conveying  its  prisoners  and  spoils.  Another  night  of 
peril  and  hardships  in  recrossing  the  river  brought  them  again  to 
13 


194 


INDEPENDENCE    YEAR. 


rOec 


1776. 


their  old  camp,  after  an  absence  of  forty  hours.     Stirling  and  half 
the  men  were  disabled  by  the  exposure. 

This  daring  stroke  gave  a  new  impulse  to  the  cause  of  liberty. 
The  prestige  of  invincibility  which   had   hitherto  preceded  the 


WASHINGTON'S   VISIT  TO   GENERAL  RALL. 


Hessians  was  broken.  Those  who  had  grown  lukewarm  now 
became  ardent  again.  Tories  were  depressed.  The  general 
whom  all  thought  so  slow  was  found  to  be  bold  and  dashing 
when  the  proper  opportunity  arrived.  Howe,  alarmed,  sent 
Cornwallis  with  reinforcements  back  into  Jersey  for  a  winter 
campaign.  "  All  our  hopes,"  said  Lord  George  Germain,  "  were 
blasted  by  the  unhappy  affair  at  Trenton."  News  of  the  victory 
having  reached  Congress,  the  president  attempted  to  announce 
the  fact,  but  broke  down,  and  could  only  call  upon  the  secretary 
to  read  Washington's  modest  despatch. 

Meanwhile,  Washington's  hands  had  been  strengthened  by 
Congress.  He  was  made  virtually  a  dictator  for  six  months, 
being  authorized  to  remove  any  officer  under  brigadier-general, 
to  fill  any  vacancy,  to  seize  supplies  for  the  use  of  the  army,  to 


fyVe:]  STATE    OF    THE    FINANCES.  IQS 

arrest  the  disaffected,  and  to  raise  troops  at  his  discretion.  The 
regiments  whose  time  expired  the  first  of  January  were  induced 
to  remain  by  a  bounty  of  ten  dollars  to  each  man.  The  military 
chest  was  empty,  but  Washington  applied  to  Robert  Morris,  the 
rich  patriot  merchant  of  Philadelphia,  who  had  just  sent  up  to 
the  commander-in-chief  a  small  sum  of  "  hard  money,"  namely, 
four  hundred  and  ten  Spanish  dollars,  two  crowns  ten  shillings 
and  sixpence  in  English  coin,  and  a  French  half-crown.  The  exi- 
gencies now  required  a  large  amount,  and  Morris  was  at  a  loss 
how  to  meet  the  sudden  demand.  The  records  of  the  time  tell 
how,  on  New-Year's  morning,  he  went  from  house  to  house, 
rousing  the  inmates  from  their  beds,  to  borrow  money.  He  had 
no  success ;  but  at  last,  while  walking  home  from  his  office, 
anxiously  considering  the  case,  he  met  a  wealthy  Quaker,  to 
whom  he  imparted  the  state  of  affairs.  "  Robert,  what  security 
canst  thou  give? "  asked  the  Quaker.  "  My  note  and  my  honor," 
said  Morris.  "  Robert,  thou  shalt  have  it,"  was  the  reply ;  and 
the  next  morning  the  sum  of  fifty  thousand  dollars  was  on  its  way 
to  Washington. 


ROBERT  MORRIS. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

THMd)  YEAfk  OF  THE  (REVO LUTIOJJ— 1777, 


IHE  year  dawned  brightly  for  the 
new  Republic.  The  term,  "  Great 
news  from  the  Jerseys,"  now  grew 
into  a  popular  saying.  Wide- 
spread was  the  panic  among  the 
British  troops.  December  25th, 
General  Griffin,  with  some  Penn- 
sylvania militia,  finding  he  was 
too  weak  to  join  in  the  proposed 
attack,  and  wishing  to  do  some- 
thing in  the  good  cause,  managed 
to  decoy  Donop  and  the  Hessians 
off  on  a  fruitless  chase  as  far  as 
Mount  Holly.  There  he  left  them  to  find  their  way  back  as  best 
they  could.  On  the  27th,  Cadwallader  crossed  the  Delaware. 
He  was  accompanied  by  Colonel  Reed,  who  had  become  a  warm 
patriot  again,  and  was  ever  after  the  friend  and  confidant  of 
Washington.  They  found  Burlington,  Bordentown,  and  other 
posts  deserted,  the  British  having  fled  precipitately.  All  along 
the  road  the  inhabitants  were  busy  tearing  down  the  red  rags — 
tory  signals — from  their  doors. 

Washington  having  given  his  men  a  brief  rest,  recrossed  the 
Delaware  and  took  post  at  Trenton.  Here  he  managed  to  collect 
five  thousand  men,  three-fifths  of  whom  were  merchants,  mechan- 
ics, and  farmers,  who  knew  nothing  of  war,  but,  inspired  with 
love  of  country,  had  left  their  warm  firesides  in  the  midst  of 
winter  to  lie  upon  the  ground  without  tent  or  shelter ;  to  march 
through  snow  and  storm ;  to  encounter  privation  and  danger,  if 
only  they  could  drive  back  the  foe. 

Cornwallis  was  now  pressing  forward  from  Princeton  with  the 


J,* 77^]  BATTLE    OF    PRINCETON.  1 97 

flower  of  the  British  army.  His  advance,  annoyed  by  troops 
hidden  in  the  woods  who  stubbornly  disputed  every  inch  of 
ground,  was  slow.  At  Trenton  he  found  Washington's  army 
drawn  up  behind  the  Assanpink,  with  the  bridge,  across  which 
the  cavalry  escaped  on  the  famous  morning  of  December  26th, 
and  all  the  neighboring  houses  and  barns,  strongly  held.  It  was 
late.  Sir  William  Erskine  urged  to  storm  the  position  that  night, 
but  Cornwallis  replied  that  his  troops  were  weary  and  he  would 
"  catch  the  fox  in  the  morning." 

Washington's  situation  was  perilous  in  the  extreme.  Before 
him  was  a  powerful  army,  behind,  an  impassable  river.  To 
retreat  was  to  give  up  Jersey  to  the  enemy.  If  he  stayed  he  could 
hardly  hope  for  victory.  He  determined  to  sweep  around  the 
British  left,  by  a  circuitous  route  known  as  the  Quaker  road,  to 
Princeton,  where  he  presumed  there  were  few  troops  remaining, 
and  thence,  perhaps,  gain  the  English  magazines  at  Brunswick. 
The  army  began  to  move  at  midnight.  The  roads,  however,  were 
muddy  and  the  cannon  could  not  be  moved.  Suddenly  the  wind 
veered,  and  within  a  few  hours  the  ground  everywhere  became 
as  hard  as  a  pavement.  To  conceal  the  movement,  men  were  set 
at  throwing  up  earthworks  near  the  bridge.  The  sentinels  kept 
their  posts  until  daybreak,  heaping  fuel  on  the  blazing  fires. 

About  sunrise,  having  arrived  near  Princeton,  Washington, 
with  the  main  body,  turned  off  by  a  nearer  and  side  road  to  the 
college,  while  General  Mercer,  with  his  brigade,  kept  on  along 
the  Quaker  road  to  the  turnpike,  where  he  was  to  break  down  the 
bridge  over  Stony  Brook,  and  thus  intercept  any  fugitives  from 
Princeton  and  any  reinforcements  from  Cornwallis  at  Trenton. 
Just  then  the  British  seventeenth  regiment  and  the  fifty-fifth 
regiment.  Colonel  Mawhood,  had  crossed  the  bridge  en  route  for 
Trenton.  Catching  sight  of  the  patriot  guns  gleaming  in  the 
sunrise,  Mawhood  hurried  back  with  his  regiment.  Both  par- 
ties rushed  to  secure  an  advantageous  post  on  the  high  ground 
at  the  right,  toward  Princeton.  The  Americans,  reaching  it  first, 
took  position  behind  a  fence,  whence  they  opened  fire  upon  the 
British.  It  was  sharply  returned.  Mercer's  horse  fell  under  him. 
In  the  confusion  Mawhood  charged.  The  Americans,  having  no 
bayonets,  broke.  Mercer,  while  trying  to  rally  them,  was 
knocked  down  with  the  butt  end  of  a  musket,  and,  refusing  to  ask 
for  quarter,  but  defending  himself  to  the  last,  was  repeatedly 
stabbed  and  left  for  dead.      Just  then  Washington,  hearing  the 


198 


THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 


rJan._3. 


1777. 


guns,  came  to  the  rescue  with  the  Pennsylvania  militia,  and,  ral- 
lying the  fugitives,  led  them  to  the  charge.  The  raw  troops 
wavered.  Washington,  dashing  to  the  front  within  thirty  paces 
of  the  enemy,  reined  in  his  horse  just  as  both  lines  fired  a  volley. 
Fitzgerald,  his  devoted  aide-de-camp,  drew  his  cap  over  his  eyes 
that  he  might  not  see  the  death  of  his  beloved  general.  The 
smoke  cleared  away,  and  there  still  stood  the  commanding  form 


i:!mr^r^^ 


THE  DEATH  OF  GENERAL  MERCER. 


of  Washington,  calm  and  imperturbable,  as  if 
on  parade.  ^'  Thank  God  !  "  exclaimed  Fitz- 
gerald, "  your  excellency  is  saved ! "  "  Away, 
and  bring  up  the  troops !  The  day  is  our 
own ! "  cried  the  heroic  commander,  his  eye 
ablaze  with  inspiration  and  resolve.  Troops  now  coming  up  on 
every  side,  the  British  fell  back,  and  it  was  only  by  their  desperate 
valor  and  perfect  discipline  that  they  escaped  over  the  fields  and 
fences  to  the  Trenton  road  and  across  the  brook.  Washington, 
in  the  midst  of  the  conflict,  marked  their  superior  control  and 
exclaimed  to  his  officers,  "  See  how  those  noble  fellows  fight. 
Ah,  gentlemen !  when  shall  we  be  able  to  keep  an  army  long 
enough  together  to  display  a  discipline  equal  to  our  enemies'  ?  " 

Meanwhile,  the  rest  of  the  Americans  had  engaged  the  fifty- 
fifth  and  fortieth  regiments,  which  had  come  up  too  late  for  the 
fight.  Again,  after  a  sharp  contest,  the  British  were  defeated. 
A  part  fled  to  the  Brunswick  road,  and  the  rest  took  refuge  in 


\fj7^,']  BATTLE    OF    PRINCETON.  1 99 

the  college.  The  artillery  opened  upon  them.  The  first  ball,  it 
is  said,  passed  through  the  portrait  of  George  IL,  hanging  in  the 
room  used  for  a  chapel,  neatly  taking  off  the  monarch's  head. 
Captain  Moore  and  his  brave  companions  soon  broke  open  the 
door,  and  the  occupants  were  glad  to  surrender.  The  American 
loss  had  been  trifling,  except  in  officers,  while  that  of  the  British 
was  two  hundred  killed  and  wounded  and  two  hundred  and 
thirty  prisoners.  Washington,  with  his  wearied  men,  did  not 
dare  to  continue  on  to  Brunswick,  but  turned  toward  Morris- 
town,  where,  among  the  rugged  highlands,  he  would  be  safe  from 
pursuit. 

That  morning's  light  had  revealed  to  Cornw^allis  the  smoulder- 
ing watch-fires  and  the  deserted  camp  of  the  Americans.  No  one 
could  tell  him  whither  his  enemy  had  gone.  Even  the  tories, 
usually  so  watchful,  were  at  fault.  He  heard  the  guns  at  Prince- 
ton through  the  keen,  frosty  air,  but  mistook  it  for  thunder. 
Erskine,  however,  was  not  deceived.  He  exclaimed,  "  To  arms. 
General!  Washington  has  outgeneraled  us.  Let  us  fly  to  the 
rescue  at  Princeton."  Chagrined  at  his  blunder,  and  alarmed  for 
the  safety  of  his  magazines  at  Brunswick,  Cornwallis  roused  his 
men  and  hastened  back  toward  Princeton.  As  his  advance-guard 
came  in  sight  of  Stony  Brook,  they  saw  a  party  which  Washing- 
ton had  sent  back  under  Major  Kelly  to  tear  down  the  bridge. 
Opening  fire,  they  drove  off  the  men ;  but  the  major  kept  on 
chopping  desperately  at  the  log  which  held  up  the  timbers,  till  at 
last  it  suddenly  gave  way,  and  he  fell  into  the  stream.  Hastily 
scrambling  out,  he  started  to  run,  but  his  wet  clothes  impeded  his 
progress,  and  he  was  afterward  captured.  Cornwallis  could  not 
stop  to  repair  the  bridge,  and  so,  ordering  his  men  into  the  water, 
they  forded  the  swollen  brook,  and  in  their  "  mail  of  frozen 
clothes  "  hastened  on  to  Princeton. 

Suddenly  they  were  brought  to  a  stand  by  a  shot  fired  from  a 
heavy  thirty-two  pounder  in  an  entrenchment  at  the  entrance  of 
the  village.  Supposing  the  patriots  to  be  there  in  force,  he  sent 
out  horsemen  to  reconnoitre,  and  prepared  to  storm  the  battery. 
The  cavalry  found  the  gun  deserted.  It  had  been  fired  by  a 
straggler  from  Washington's  rear-guard. 

The  delay  at  the  brook  and  the  breastwork  had  given  time  for 
the  patriots  to  escape.  Cornwallis,  dejected  and  disheartened, 
went  on  to  Brunswick.  A  bolder  general  might  have  pursued 
the  Americans,  but  the  British,  just  then,  were  in  no  mood  for  any 


2CX)  THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [ffPf^ 

rash  enterprise  against  a  general  whose  strategy  had  proved  so 
superior  to  all  their  discipline  and  numbers. 

Meanwhile  the  patriot  army  was  toiling  forward,  the  men  so 
weary  from  lack  of  food  and  sleep  that  they  often  dropped  down 
on  the  frozen  ground,  and,  sinking  into  a  lethargic  slumber,  were 
aroused  only  by  the  blows  and  shouts  of  their  companions.  That 
night,  chilled  and  half-clothed,  with  no  tents  or  blankets,  they  lay 
in  the  woods  at  Somerset  Court-House,  an  easy  prey,  had  the 
enemy  been  at  hand. 

These  exploits  won  for  Washington  universal  applause.  He 
was  declared  to  be  the  saver  of  his  country.  Europe  rang  with 
praises  of  the  New  World's  general.  Frederick  the  Great  of  Prus- 
sia declared  that  his  achievements  were  the  most  brilliant  of  any 
recorded  on  the  pages  of  history.  Before  the  sixty  days  mentioned 
in  Howe's  proclamation  had  expired,  Washington  issued  a  counter 
one,  commanding  that  all  who  had  signed  the  British  pardon 
should,  within  thirty  days,  either  withdraw  to  the  English  lines 
or  take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  United  States,  on  pain  of 
being  held  as  common  enemies.  The  excesses  of  the  British  army 
had  aroused  the  bitterest  hatred.  The  day  of  deliverance  seemed 
now  to  have  come,  and  all  classes  were  animated  with  the  hope  of 
"  expelling  these  infamous  robbers."  Armed  men  sprang  up  as  if 
from  the  ground.  Foraging  parties  were  everywhere  cut  off,  and 
soon  the  British  dared  not  venture  outside  their  lines.  The  day 
Washington  reached  Morristown,  one  Oliver  Spencer,  with  some 
New  Jersey  militia,  routed  an  equal  body  of  Hessians,  taking 
thirty-nine  prisoners.  The  same  afternoon.  Governor  Clinton, 
-coming  down  with  a  small  force  from  Peekskill,  captured  Hack- 
ensack,  the  garrison  making  a  speedy  flight.  General  Maxwell 
took  Elizabethtown  and  one  hundred  prisoners.  General  Dickin- 
son, with  four  hundred  raw  volunteers,  forded  the  river  near  Som- 
erset Court-House,  and  attacked  a  foraging  party,  taking  several 
prisoners,  forty  wagons,  and  one  hundred  English  draught  horses. 
Before  the  close  of  January  the  British  held  only  Brunswick,  Am- 
boy,  and  Paulus  Hook. 

From  the  beginning  of  the  war  there  had  been  hopes  of  obtain- 
ing aid  from  Europe.  The  French  were  especially  well  disposed 
to  the  Americans,  partly  because  of  hatred  to  England,  and  partly 
of  a  love  for  liberty  which  was  gaining  ground  among  the  people 
of  that  country.  In  1776,  Silas  Deane,  of  Connecticut,  had  been 
sent  as  commissioner  to  France.     He  accomplished  little,  however. 


if^j']  FRANKLIN    AT    THE    FRENCH    COURT.  20I 

He  sent  back  only  about  fifteen  thousand  old  muskets,  and  was 
strongly  suspected  of  misappropriating  the  public  funds.  He 
was  afterward  followed  by  Benjamin  Franklin  and  Arthur  Lee. 
The  former,  already  noted  as  a  philosopher,  in  his  quaint  Quaker 
garb,  calf-skin  shoes  tied  with  leather  strings,  and  his  plain,  repub- 
lican manners,  was  a  novelty  in  high  French  circles.  His  wit,  his 
sturdy  common  sense,  and  his  fascinating  conversation,  attracted 
universal  admiration,  and  he  instantly  became  the  lion  of  the  day. 
The  fashionable  world  went  crazy  over  the  strange  American,  who 
was  formally  presented  to  the  king  in  a  plain  Manchester  velvet 
coat — the  same  which  he  had  worn  in  England  when  he  appeared 
before  the  Privy  Council  as  agent  for  Massachusetts — white  stock- 
ings, with  spectacles  on  his  nose,  a  white  hat  under  his  arm,  and 
his  thin  gray  hair  quite  innocent  of  powder.  When  he  visited  the 
theatre  or  opera,  the  brilliant  audiences  rose  to  receive  and  greet 
him  with  wild  applause.  Elegant  feUs  were  given  in  his  honor, 
and  of  three  hundred  lovely  women,  the  most  beautiful  was  chosen 
to  crown  his  gray  hairs  with  a  wreath  of  laurel  and  salute  his 
cheeks  with  a  kiss.  Franklin  modestly  accepted  all  these  ex- 
travagant attentions  as  offered  only  through  him  to  his  beloved 
country. 

He  soon  secured  a  promise  of  secret  assistance.  Fifty-six 
thousand  hogsheads  of  tobacco  were  to  be  furnished  the  agents 
of  the  French  government,  upon  which  an  advance  of  a  million 
francs  was  obtained.  More  than  twenty  thousand  stands  of  arms 
and  one  thousand  barrels  of  powder  reached  America  during 
the  ensuing  campaign.  Quite  as  valuable  were  the  gallant  volun- 
teers who  espoused  our  cause  and  came  across  the  ocean  to  help 
fight  the  battles  of  freedom. 

Marquis  de  Lafayette,  at  a  banquet  given  in  honor  of  the 
brother  of  the  English  king,  first  heard  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence. The  effect  upon  him  was  quite  contrary  to  that  intended. 
Won  by  its  arguments,  he  from  that  time  joined  his  hopes  and 
sympathies  to  the  American  side.  Yet,  how  was  he  to  aid  it  ? 
The  French  nobility,  though  heartily  disliking  England,  did  not 
endorse  the  action  of  her  colonies.  He  was  not  yet  twenty  years 
of  age ;  he  had  just  married  a  woman  whom  he  tenderly  loved ; 
his  prospects  at  home  for  honor  and  happiness  were  bright.  To 
join  the  patriot  army  would  take  him  from  his  native  land,  his 
wife,  and  all  his  coveted  ambitions,  and  would  lead  him  into 
a  struggle  that  seemed  as  hopeless  as  its  cause  was  just.     But 


202 


THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 


rAprn_25, 


1777. 


his  zeal  for  America  overcame  all  this.  Other  difficulties  now 
arose.  His  family  objected ;  the  British  minister  protested ;  the 
French  king  withheld  his  permission.  Still  undaunted,  he  pur- 
chased a  vessel,  fitted  it  out  at  his  own  expense,  and,  escaping  the 
officers  sent  to  detain  him,  crossed  the  ocean.  Arriving  at  Charles- 
ton, he  hastened  to  Philadelphia,  and,  offering  himself  to  Congress, 
asked  permission  to  serve  as  a  volunteer  without  pay.  A  few 
days  after,  his  acquaintance  with  Washington  began,  which  soon 
ripened  into  a  tender  and  intimate  friendship. 

Baron  de  Kalb  accompanied  Lafayette.  He  was  a  French 
officer  of  skill  and  experience,  and  received  the  appointment  of 
major-general  in  the  Continental  army.  He  proved  a  valuable 
officer,  and  met  a  glorious  death  amid  the  rout  at  Camden. 


BARON   DE  KALB. 


Kosciusko,  a  Pole  of  noble  birth,  was  commended  to  Washing- 
ton by  Franklin,  and  offered  himself  "  to  fight  as  a  volunteer  for 
American  independence."  "  What  can  you  do  ?"  asked  the  com- 
mander. **  Try  me,"  was  Kosciusko's  laconic  reply.  Washington 
was  greatly  pleased  with  him,  and  made  him  his  aid.  He  became 
a  colonel  in  the  engineer  corps,  and  superintended  the  construc- 
tion of  the  works  at  West  Point. 

Count  Pulaski,  a  Polish  officer  who  had  performed  many 
daring  exploits  during  the  struggles  of  his  native  country  for 
liberty,  entered  the  service  of  the  United  States  this  year. 
"  Pulaski's  American  Legion  "  afterward  won  great  renown  and 
did  excellent  service. 

The  English  government  was  now  making  every  exertion  to 
fill  up  the  army  for  the  ensuing  campaign.      The  most  reliance 


Ma^June,]       ENGLISH   PREPARATIONS   FOR  THE   CAMPAIGN.  203 

was  placed  upon  the  Hessians ;  but  the  German  princes  met  with 
great  difficulty  in  supplying  recruits.  The  cause  was  unpopular 
among  the  people,  and  desertions  were  numerous.  Officers 
picked  up  men  anywhere  they  could  find  them.  Foreigners,  vag- 
abonds, and  loose  fellows — even  unprotected  travelers  were  forced 
into  the  ranks.  Troops  had  to  be  driven  on  shipboard  at  the 
point  of  the  bayonet.  The  regiments  of  Anspach,  for  example, 
could  not  be  trusted  with  arms  or  ammunition.  When  it  came  to 
embarking,  the  guard  was  unable  to  get  them  aboard,  and  the 
landgrave  himself  was  sent  for  in  all  haste.  He  personally  took 
the  place  of  driver,  and,  by  the  power  of  his  traditional  authority, 
at  last  succeeded  in  forcing  the  reluctant  and  rebellious  soldiers 
into  the  boats.  Frederick  of  Prussia,  we  are  told,  was  disgusted 
with  this  whole  mercenary  scheme.  Metternich,  as  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  Austrian  court,  reclaimed  the  subjects  of  that 
country.  Thus  the  English  army  secured  only  about  enough 
Hessians  to  make  up  the  loss  at  Trenton. 

The  most  flattering  proposals  were  made  to  induce  the  cap- 
tured American  sailors  to  enlist  in  the  British  navy.  The  reply 
of  one  of  them,  Nathan  Coffin,  is  worthy  of  immortality,  "  Hang 
me  to  the  yard-arm  of  your  ship  if  you  will,  but  do  not  ask  me  to 
become  a  traitor  to  my  country." 

Enlistments  among  the  tories  were  encouraged.  Tryon,  who 
was  a  fitting  tool,  was  put  in  charge  of  this  detestable  work. 
Commissions  were  issued  freely.  De  Lancey  of  New  York  and 
Skinner  of  New  Jersey  were  made  brigadiers.  It  was  a  common 
boast  of  the  loyalists  that  as  many  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  States 
w^ere  taken  into  the  pay  of  the  crown  as  into  that  of  Congress. 
This  was  doubtless  an  exaggeration,  yet  Sabine,  in  his  '^  Loyalists 
of  the  American  Revolution,"  estimates  twenty-five  thousand  as  a 
low  figure  for  the  total  number  who  thus  not  only  proved  recreant 
to  the  cause  of  liberty,  but  took  up  arms  against  it  in  the  service 
of  the  tyrant. 

The  tomahawk  and  scalping-knife  were  also  called  in  to  aid 
the  king  in  this  emergency.  The  entire  frontier,  it  was  hoped, 
would  resound  with  the  war-whoop,  as  in  the  terrible  days  of 
Philip  and  Pontiac.  The  merciful  provisions  of  Sir  Guy  Carle- 
ton,  in  command  in  Canada,  for  the  employment  of  the  Indians, 
were  revoked.  *'  The  Ottawas,  the  Chippewas,  the  Wyandottes, 
the  Shawnees,  the  Senecas,  the  Delawares,  and  the  Pottawato- 
mies,"  wrote  the  secretary.  Lord  Germain,  "  are  no  longer  to  be 


204  THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  VnV: 

restrained."  The  employment  of  such  allies  was  severely  de- 
nounced by  the  opposition  in  the  British  parliament.  '^  If  I  were 
an  American,  as  I  am  an  Englishman,"  exclaimed  Pitt  in  an 
eloquent  speech  on  the  subject,  "  while  a  foreign  troop  was  landed 
in  my  country,  I  never  would  lay  down  my  arms — never,  never^ 
never!" 

This  year  witnessed  the  first  celebration  of  the  signing  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence.  The  Pennsylvania  Journal  of  that 
date  gives  a  glowing  description  of  the  festivities  in  Philadelphia. 
The  firing  of  salutes,  music  from  the  Hessian  band  taken  at  Tren- 
ton, feux  de  joie  from  a  corps  of  British  deserters,  a  congressional 
dinner  with  toasts  for  the  living  and  the  dead,  and  a  military  re- 
view, filled  up  the  day.  In  the  evening  there  were  the  ringing 
of  bells  and  an  exhibition  of  fireworks — the  latter  beginning  and 
ending  with  the  flight  of  thirteen  rockets.  *'  Thus,"  says  the 
writer,  "  may  the  Fourth  of  July,  that  glorious  and  ever-memo- 
rable day,  be  celebrated  through  America  by  the  sons  of  freedom 
from  age  to  age,  till  time  shall  be  no  more.     Amen  and  Amen! " 

George  III.,  we  are  told,  was  interested  in  the  minutest  detail 
of  the  American  war.  The  plan  for  the  campaign  of  1777,  which 
was  adopted  in  his  closet,  was  for  General  Howe  to  take  care  of 
Washington  and  his  army  and  seize  Philadelphia ;  General  Bur- 
goyne  was  to  move  from  Canada  by  the  old  French  and  Indian 
war  route  up  Lake  Champlain,  while  Clinton  was  to  ascend  the 
Hudson  from  New  York ;  thus  all  intercourse  between  New  Eng- 
land and  the  other  States  would  be  cut  off",  and  the  navigation  of 
the  Hudson  secured.  Burgoyne  left  Canada  with  a  force  of,  per- 
haps, ten  thousand  British  and  Indians.  Near  Crown  Point  he 
gave  a  grand  feast  to  the  chiefs  of  the  Six  Nations,  after  which 
four  hundred  of  their  warriors  took  the  war-path  with  the  British 
general.  Here  a  grandiloquent  proclamation  was  issued,  declar- 
ing how  difficult  it  would  be  to  restrain  his  savage  allies  in  case 
any  resistarice  should  be  offered  to  the  progress  of  the  royal  forces 
under  his  command. 

At  evening  on  the  ist  of  July,  he  appeared  before  Fort  Ticon- 
deroga.  St.  Clair,  who  was  in  command  at  that  point,  had 
written  not  long  before :  "  Should  the  enemy  attack  us  they  will 
go  back  faster  than  they  came."  On  the  5th,  the  British  dragged 
a  battery  of  heavy  guns  up  Mount  Defiance,  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  outlet,  which  commanded  both  Ticonderoga  and  Fort  Inde- 
pendence, but  was  supposed  to  be  inaccessible  to  artillery.     St. 


July  6 


uly  6,-] 
17^7.  J 


RECAPTURE    OF    TICONDEROGA. 


205 


Clair  had  no  chance  of  defence.  That  night,  with  his  garrison  of 
three  thousand  men,  he  escaped  in  the  darkness  by  land  and  water, 
taking  only  such  stores  as  his  boats  could  carry.  The  burning  of 
his  residence  at  Fort  Independence  by  General  De  Fermoy,  in  vio- 
lation of  express  orders,  revealed  to  the  enemy  what  was  trans- 
piring. General  Eraser 
pushed  on  eagerly  in  pur- 
suit. Burgoyne,  at  day- 
break, took  possession  of 
the  forts.  It  was  the  third 
time  Fort  Ticonderoga 
had  been  captured  with- 
out bloodshed. 

At  sunrise  on  the  7th, 
Fraser  overtook  the  rear- 
guard of  the  Americans 
at  Hubbardton  while 
they  were  at  breakfast. 
Fraser  had  only  about 
eight  hundred  men ;  while 
there  were  three  regi- 
ments of  the  Americans 
under  Seth  Warner,  Fran- 
cis, and  Hale.  The  last,  with  his  men,  retired  in  the  direction  of 
Castleton,  and  en  route  meeting  a  body  of  the  British,  surren- 
dered without  resistance.  Warner  and  Francis  gallantly  rallied 
the  remainder,  about  seven  hundred  in  number,  and  turning  upon 
the  British,  seemed  on  the  point  of  winning  the  day  ;  but  Riede- 
sel,  hearing  the  firing,  came  up  with  a  body  of  Hessians,  his 
music  playing  and  his  men  singing  a  battle-hymn.  The  Ameri- 
cans were  forced  to  give  way.  Francis,  after  having  charged 
three  times,  was  killed.  Over  one  hundred  fell  and  two  hundred 
were  taken  prisoners.  Those  who  escaped  scattered  through  the 
woods.  It  was  two  days  before  Warner,  with  ninety  men, 
reached  St.  Clair. 

Meanwhile,  Burgoyne  sent  a  fleet  up  the  lake.  It  overtook  the 
American  flotilla  bearing  the  stores  from  Ticonderoga,  just  as, 
unsuspicious  of  danger,  it  moored  in  the  harbor  at  Whitehall. 
The  Americans  blew  up  some  of  the  galleys,  abandoned  the 
others  with  the  bateaux,  set  fire  to  the  buildings,  and  fled  back 
to  join  General  Schuyler  at  Fort  Edward.     A  British  regiment 


KUINS    OF    FORT   TICONDEROGA. 


206  THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [fj^f 

pursued  them  as  far  as  Fort  Ann.  The  garrison  of  that  post, 
under  Colonel  Long,  consisted  of  about  five  hundred  convales- 
cents and  invalids.  He  gallantly  came  out  to  meet  the  enemy, 
and  took  post  in  a  ravine  about  a  mile  in  front  of  his  works.  The 
British  recoiled  from  his  sharp  fire  and  retreated  to  a  neighboring 
hill.  Following  them  up,  he  would  have  utterly  defeated  them  if 
his  ammunition  had  held  out.  As  it  was,  he  inflicted  a  loss  of 
fifty  men.  When  the  English  came  back  with  reinforcements,  it 
was  only  to  find  the  fort  burned  to  the  ground  and  the  garrison 
escaped. 

The  fall  of  Ticonderoga  and  the  defeat  of  the  army,  with  the 
loss  of  two  hundred  pieces  of  artillery,  fell  upon  the  country  like 
a  thunderbolt  from  the  clear  sky.  **  We  shall  never  be  able  to 
defend  a  fort,"  wrote  John  Adams,  **  till  we  shoot  a  general." 
A  ridiculous  story  obtained  credence  that  Burgoyne  had  paid 
•  Schuyler  and  St.  Clair  for  their  treachery,  in  silver  bullets  fired 
into  the  American  camp.  Possibilities  of  Schuyler's  treachery 
and  reports  of  his  cowardice  and  incapacity  were  freely  circu- 
lated. 

The  entire  country  between  Whitehall  and  Fort  Edward  was 
a  wilderness,  traversed  by  a  single  military  road  leading  through 
extensive  woods  and  morasses  and  crossing  many  creeks.  Bur- 
goyne, on  his  advance,  found  his  path  obstructed  by  fallen  trees, 
broken-down  bridges,  and  ruined  causeways.  Beyond  this, 
Schuyler  did  nothing  to  prevent  the  British  progress,  and  on  the 
29th  the  cross  of  St.  George  was  planted  on  the  banks  of  the 
Hudson.  During  the  march,  the  English  army  had  built  with 
infinite  toil  more  than  forty  bridges  and  a  log  causeway  over  two 
miles  long.  This  labor,  under  the  hot  sun  of  July,  by  men  bur- 
dened with  their  equipments  and  annoyed  by  swarms  of  insects, 
had  thoroughly  exhausted  their  strength.  There  was  no  enemy, 
however,  to  dispute  their  way.  Fort  Edward  could  not  be  held, 
and  the  Americans  retired,  first  to  Saratoga,  then  to  Stillwater, 
and  finally  to  the  islands  in  the  Hudson  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Mohawk.  In  spite  of  this  timidity  and  lack  of  skill,  Burgoyne's 
disastrous  fate  was  fast  unfolding  itself 

Before  leaving  Canada,  he  had  sent  Colonel  St.  Leger  to 
ravage  the  Mohawk  Valley,  thus  creating  a  diversion  in  his  favor, 
and  then  to  meet  him  at  Albany.  St.  Leger  had  induced  one 
thousand  Indians  to  join  his  ranks  as  he  marched  southward  from 
Oswego.     With  Brandt  and  his  Mohawk  Indians,  Johnson  and  his 


Auk.  6 


V^yf']  BATTLE    OF    ORISKANY.  207 

tories,  and  Butler  and  his  rangers,  he  laid  siege  to  Fort  Schuyler, 
late  Fort  Stanwix,  now  Rome.  This  was  at  that  time  the  extreme 
western  settlement  of  the  State.  It  was  a  log  fortification,  built 
on  rising  ground,  and  held  by  two  New  York  regiments  under 
Gansevoort  and  Willett. 

General  Herkimer,  knowing  that  the  fort  was  not  provisioned 
or  equipped  for  a  siege,  raised  a  body  of  militia  from  Tryon 
county,  and  set  out  for  its  relief.  At  Oriskany  they  fell  into  an 
ambuscade.  While  carelessly  marching  through  the  woods, 
"  Johnson's  Greens  "  attacked  them  in  front  and  Brandt's  Indians 
on  both  flanks.  It  was  a  true  battle  of  the  wilderness.  The 
militia,  royalists,  and  savages  were  soon  so  intermingled  that 
there  was  no  room  to  use  fire-arms.  The  white  man  and  Indian, 
wrestling  in  mortal  conflict,  striking  with  bayonet,  hatchet,  and 
hunting-knife,  often  fell  in  the  shade  of  the  forest, "  their  left  hands 
clenched  in  each  other's  hair,  their  right  grasping,  in  a  grip  of 
death,  the  knife  plunged  in  each  other's  bosom."  Herkimer  was 
mortally  wounded,  but  remained  till  the  end  giving  orders  and 
encouraging  his  companions.  About  four  hundred  of  the  Ameri- 
cans finally  retreated  to  a  knoll  near  by,  where,  from  behind  trees 
and  logs,  they  held  their  ground  until  the  Indians,  suddenly 
shouting  "  Oonah !  Oonah !  "  hastened  back  to  save  their  camp. 

While  this  struggle  was  going  on,  Lieutenant-Colonel  Willett, 
with  a  part  of  the  garrison,  had  made  a  daring  sally  toward  the 
scene  of  conflict.  They  drove  all  before  them — rangers,  tories, 
savages,  and  squaws.  Hearing,  however,  of  Herkimer's  mis- 
fortune, they  went  back  to  the  fort  without  losing  a  man,  carry- 
ing with  them  kettles,  furs,  five  flags,  and  a  few  prisoners. 

When  the  enemy  first  appeared,  the  garrison  was  without  a 
flag,  but  with  true  American  ingenuity,  one  had  been  straightway 
improvised.  Shirts  were  cut  up  to  form  the  white  stripes,  bits  of 
scarlet  cloth  were  sewed  together  to  supply  the  red,  and  a  blue 
cloth  cloak  served  as  a  ground  for  the  stars.  Beneath  this  patch- 
work streamer  they  now  proudly  placed  the  colors  they  had  won. 
"  It  was  the  first  time,"  says  Bancroft,  "  that  a  captured  banner 
floated  under  the  stars  and  stripes." 

It  is  interesting,  in  this  connection,  to  notice  the  origin  of  our 
flag.  In  early  times  the  English  colonies  naturally  displayed  the 
flag  of  the  mother-country.  We  read  that  in  1636,  however, 
Endicott,  the  governor  of  Massachusetts,  cut  out  the  cross  of  St. 
George  as  a  *'  Romish  symbol,"  and  the  king's  arms  were  after^ 


208  THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [''""i777?^' 

ward  substituted  for  this  emblem,  so  obnoxious  to  the  Puritans. 
In  1 65 1,  with  the  commonwealth  came  a  revival  of  the  old  standard 
of  St.  George.  At  the  opening  of  the  Revolution  the  colonies 
used  a  great  variety  of  flags.  At  Bunker  Hill  it  is  probable  there 
was  no  American  banner  flying.  Considering  themselves  still  a 
part  of  the  British  empire,  the  patriots  frequently  fought  under 
the  **  Union  Jack."  While  Washington  was  in  command  at 
Cambridge  he  raised  a  flag,  called  the  ''  Great  Union,"  which 
consisted  of  thirteen  red  and  white  stripes,  having  at  the  corner 
the  cross  of  the  English  flag.  The  Americans  carried  this  banner 
when  they  entered  Boston  after  its  evacuation  by  General  Howe; 
when  they  fled  through  New  Jersey  before  the  conquering 
enemy ;  and  when  they  crossed  the  Delaware  'mid  snow  and  ice, 
and  charged  at  Trenton  in  the  early  dawn.  The  vessels  of  the 
infant  navy  bore  a  white  flag  with  a  green  pine-tree  in  the  corner. 
The  United  States  were  free  a  long  time  before  they  assumed  a 
distinctive  flag.  June  17th  of  this  year  Congress  voted  that  *nhe 
flag  of  the  thirteen  United  States  be  thirteen  stripes,  alternate 
red  and  white,  and  the  union  be  thirteen  white  stars  in  the  blue 
field."  The  latter  were  arranged  in  a  circle.  Paul  Jones,  who 
afterward  became  famous,  was  the  first  to  hoist  the  new  flag  over 
an  American  ship-of-war,  he  having  previously  displayed  it  to  a. 
crowd  assembled  on  the  banks  of  the  Schuylkill,  while  he  sailed 
up  and  down  in  a  small  boat,  with  the  patriotic  banner  proudly 
unfurled. 

Finding  that  Fort  Schuyler  could  not  hold  out  much  longer, 
Colonel  Willett  and  a  friend.  Lieutenant  Stockwell,  determined  to 
inform  Schuyler  of  the  situation.  One  dark,  stormy  night  they 
crept  from  the  entrenchments,  passed  through  the  camp,  escaped 
sentinels  and  Indians,  crossed  the  Mohawk  on  a  log,  and  reached 
the  American  army  in  safety. 

Arnold,  always  ready  for  a  desperate  service,  volunteered^ 
with  eight  hundred  men,  to  go  to  the  relief.  He  accomplished 
his  mission  by  a  stratagem.  A  half-witted  boy,  who  had  been 
taken  prisoner,  was  promised  his  freedom  if  he  would  spread  the 
report  among  St.  Leger's  troops  that  a  large  body  of  Americans 
was  close  at  hand.  Having  cut  holes  in  his  clothes,  he  accord- 
ingly ran  breathless  into  the  camp  of  the  besiegers,  showing  the 
bullet  holes  and  describing  his  narrow  escape  from  the  enemy. 
When  asked  their  number,  he  mysteriously  pointed  upward  to 
the  leaves  on  the  trees.     The  Indians  and  British  were  so  fright- 


Aug.  13, -| 
1777.     J 


RELIEF    OF    FORT    SCHUYLER. 


209 


ened  that,  though  Arnold  was  yet  forty  miles  away,  they  fled  in  a 
panic,  leaving  their  tents  and  artillery  behind  them. 

Such  was  the  difficulty  of  getting  supplies  through  the  wilder- 
ness from  Lake  George,  that  after  two  weeks  hard  labor  Burgoyne 
had  only  secured  four  days  provisions.      Learning  that  the  Amer- 


THE  ALARM  AT  FORT  SCHUYLER. 


leans  had  collected  a  quantity  of  stores  at  Bennington,  he  sent 
Colonel  Baum  with  about  eight  hundred  Hessians,  Canadians,  and 
Indians  to  seize  them,  collect  horses,  recruit  royalists,  and  thence 
rejoin  the  army  at  Albany.  Fortunately,  on  the  very  day,  August 
13th,  that  Baum  set  out,  General  Stark,  who  was  in  command  of 
a  brigade  of  New  Hampshire  militia,  arrived  at  Bennington.  He 
had  just  refused  to  join  General  Schuyler,  on  the  ground  that  his 
troops  were  raised  for  the  defence  of  the  State,  and  he  had  been 
promised  a  separate  command.  This  act  of  insubordination,  which 
might  have  been  fatal,  now  proved  the  salvation  of  the  country. 
On  receiving  news  of  the  approach  of  the  British,  Stark  immedi- 
ately forwarded  word  to  Colonel  Warner  to  come  to  his  aid  with 
the  Green  Mountain  Boys.  Nearing  Bennington,  Baum  discov- 
ered a  reconnoitering  party  of  Americans,  and  entrenching  him- 
self on  high  ground  in  a  bend  of  the  Walloomscoick  River,  sent 
back  to  Burgoyne  for  reinforcements.  The  next  day  was  so  rainy, 
that  all  movements  were  prevented. 


2IO  THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  l^'ffjj^ 

During  the  night  of  the  15th  a  body  of  Berkshire  militia  ar- 
rived. Rev.  Mr.  Allen,  of  Pittsfield,  and  a  large  number  of  his 
church  members  were  among  them.  This  gentleman  was  burn- 
ing to  display  his  patriotic  zeal,  and  before  daybreak,  while  the 
clouds  were  still  pouring,  he  impatiently  sought  Stark.  "  Now, 
general,"  he  said,  ''the  Berkshire  people  have  been  called  out 
several  times  before,  without  having  a  chance  to  fight,  and  if  you 
do  not  give  it  to  them  this  time,  they  will  never  turn  out  again." 
"  Well,"  answered  the  general,  with  a  secret  satisfaction  at  the 
pluck  of  his  troops,  "  do  you  wish  to  march  now,  while  it  is  dark 
and  raining  ?"  **  No,  not  just  this  moment,"  was  the  reply.  *'  Then 
just  wait  till  the  Lord  gives  us  sunshine,"  returned  Stark,  "  and  if 
I  do  not  give  you  fighting  enough,  I'll  never  ask  you  to  come  out 
again." 

The  morning  dawned  clear,  and  both  sides  prepared  for  action. 
About  noon.  Stark  developed  his  plan.  Detachments  were  sent  right 
and  left  to  the  rear  of  the  enemy's  main  post  on  the  heights.  Baum, 
seeing  men  in  their  shirt-sleeves  and  with  simple  fowling-pieces 
collecting  behind  his  camp,  mistook  them  for  country  people,  and 
thought  nothing  of  it.  Another  detachment  was  then  sent  to  Baum's 
right,  while  his  attention  was  attracted  by  a  feigned  attack  upon  a 
tory  entrenchment  at  the  ford  in  front.  At  three  o'clock  the  troops 
in  the  rear  dashed  up  the  hill.  At  the  first  volley  Stark  ordered  a 
charge.  As  they  reached  the  top  they  caught  sight  of  the  British 
lines  forming  for  battle.  **  There  are  the  red-coats,"  he  shouted  ; 
"  we  beat  them  to-day,  or  Betty  Stark  is  a  widow."  On  his  men 
dashed,  sweeping  the  tories  before  them.  There  was  no  flinching. 
With  perfect  confidence  in  their  leader,  though  destitute  of  can- 
non, bayonets,  and  discipline,  they  closed  in  upon  the  Hessians  on 
all  sides.  The  sharp-shooters  crept  up  within  eight  paces  to  pick 
off  the  cannoneers.  The  Germans  fought  with  desperate  valor, 
but  their  ammunition  giving  out,  the  militia  scaled  the  works. 
Baum  ordered  his  men  to  break  out  with  bayonet  and  sword,  but 
he  was  soon  mortally  wounded,  and  his  men  surrendered.  The 
Indians  had  fled  with  horrible  yells  early  in  the  day. 

Just  as  the  battle  was  won,  however,  it  seemed  to  be  lost.  The 
militia  had  dispersed  to  plunder  the  camp  when  Breyman  came 
up  with  the  reinforcements  from  Burgoyne.  An  hour  earlier  and 
they  might  have  claimed  the  day.  They  now  rallied  the  fugitives 
and  pushed  for  Baum's  entrenchments.  At  this  moment  Warner 
arrived  with  his  regiment.     Stark  collected  the  militia,  and  again 


*1f^7?]  BATTLE    OF    BENNINGTON.  211 

the  battle  raged  fiercely  as  ever.  At  sunset  the  Hessians  ordered 
a  retreat,  leaving  cannon  and  wounded.  The  exulting  Americans 
followed  them  till  night-fall.  Darkness  alone  saved  them  from 
annihilation.  The  patriots  lost  only  seventy  all  told,  while  the 
British  loss  was  twice  as  great,  besides  about  seven  hundred 
prisoners. 

An  incident  illustrates  the  spirit  of  the  men  that  day.  One  old 
man  had  five  sons  in  the  patriot  army.  A  neighbor,  just  from  the 
field,  told  him  that  one  had  been  unfortunate.  "  Has  he  proved 
a  coward  or  a  traitor  ?  "  asked  the  father.  "  O  no ;  he  fought 
bravely,"  was  the  answer;  "but  he  has  fallen."  "Ah,"  said  the 
father,  "  then  I  am  satisfied." 

The  flight  of  St.  Leger  and  the  defeat  at  Bennington  aroused 
the  people  from  their  depression,  and  inspired  them  with  hope  of 
success.  The  atrocities  committed  by  the  Indians  also  did  much 
to  inflame  them  with  hatred  of  a  government  which  let  loose  upon 
them  such  savage  foes.  None  of  their  bloody  acts  caused  more 
general  execration  than  the  murder  of  Jane  McCrea.  This  young 
lady  was  the  betrothed  of  a  Captain  Jones  of  the  British  army. 
She  lived  near  Fort  Edward  in  the  family  of  her  brother,  who, 
being  a  whig,  started  for  Albany  on  Burgoyne's  approach.  But 
she,  hoping  to  meet  her  lover,  lingered  at  the  house  of  Mrs. 
McNeil,  a  staunch  royalist,  and  a  cousin  of  the  British  General 
Fraser.  Early  one  morning  the  house  was  surprised  by  Indians, 
who  dragged  forth  the  inmates  and  hurried  them  away  toward 
Burgoyne's  camp.  Mrs.  McNeil  arrived  there  in  safety.  A  short 
time  after,  another  party  came  in  with  fresh  scalps,  among  which 
she  recognized  the  long,  glossy  hair  of  her  friend.  The  savages, 
on  being  charged  with  her  murder,  declared  that  she  had  been 
killed  by  a  chance  shot  from  a  pursuing  party,  whereupon  they 
had  scalped  her  to  secure  the  bounty.  The  precise  truth  has 
never  been  known.  This  massacre  was  probably  no  more  hor- 
rible than  many  others.  But  it  was  susceptible  of  embellishment, 
and  everywhere  produced  a  deep  impression.  Many  patriots 
were  led  to  join  the  army,  and  many  royalists  to  desert  a  cause 
which  permitted  such  atrocities. 

The  New  England  troops  were  unwilling  to  serve  under 
Schuyler,  who  seemed  to  have  little  confidence  in  them,  and  the 
militia  consequently  came  in  but  slowly.  Gates,  who  was  am- 
bitious of  a  separate  command,  and  who  had  been  superseded 
by  Schuyler  in  the  charge   of  this  department,  was  constantly 


212 


THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 


^Aug.SepU 


intriguing  to  oust  his  rival.  Congress  lacked  faith  in  Schuyler's 
abilities,  and,  after  the  fall  of  Ticonderoga,  even  proposed  to 
change  all  the  higher  officers  of  the  northern  army.  Washington 
was  desired  to  nominate  a  successor  to  Schuyler,  but  declined. 
With  noble  self-sacrifice,  though  he  was  himself  confronted  by  a 
far  larger  army  than  was  Schuyler,  he  sent  him  two  brigades  of 
his  best  troops,  and  ordered  thither  Morgan  with  his  incompara- 
ble riflemen  ;  Lincoln,  who  was  popular  with  the  eastern  militia ; 
and  Arnold,  famous  for  his  desperate  daring.  He  also  wrote 
personally  to  the  governors  of  the  New  England  States,  urging 
them  to  rally  in  this  emergency.  Soon  the  yeomanry  began  to 
pour  into  camp,  all  eager,  even  anxious,  for  a  battle.  Such  was 
the  dissatisfaction  with  Schuyler,  that 
Gates    was    now   appointed   to    take   his       yfij^^""^^ 


place.  However  much  the  former  may 
have  lacked  the  abilities  of  a  great  gen- 
eral, he  proved 


MRS.   SCHUYLER  SETTING  THE   GRAIN-FIELDS  ON   FIRE. 


a  true  patriot.  No  spirit  of  jealousy  at  the  success  of  his  rival 
actuated  him.  He  magnanimously  threw  all  his  influence  in  favor 
of  Gates,  made  known  to  him  his  plans  and  efficiently  aided  in 
their  execution.  His  great  heart  had  no  more  room  for  envy  than 
for  selfishness.  During  the  retreat  he  had  given  orders  to  Mrs. 
Schuyler  to  set  fire  to  his  fields  of  grain  at  Saratoga,  to  prevent 
the  possibility  of  their  falling  into  the  enemy's  hands. 

Burgoyne's  position  was  every  day  becoming  more  embarrass- 
ing.    The  Canadians  and  tories  were  discouraged.     The  Indians, 


'*?77?']  FIRST  BATTLE  OF  SARATOGA.  313 

indignant  at  the  humane  efforts  Burgoyne  had  made  to  restrain 
their  ferocity,  were  rapidly  deserting.  His  misfortunes  weighed 
like  an  incubus  on  the  morale  of  the  whole  army.  His  instruc- 
tions, however,  were  positive.  He  expected  Clinton  had  already 
ascended  the  Hudson  to  co-operate  with  him,  and  so,  against  the 
judgment  of  his  best  officers,  determined  to  proceed.  Provisions 
for  about  thirty  days  had  been  painfully  gathered,  and  with  his 
army  of  six  thousand  men,  all  veterans,  splendidly  equipped,  and 
with  a  fine  artillery,  he  promised  yet  to  "  eat  his  Christmas  dinner 
in  Albany." 

Meanwhile,  the  American  army,  at  least  ten  thousand  strong, 
well  armed,  burning  with  patriotism  and  eager  for  the  fray,  had 
advanced  to  Bemis's  Heights,  near  Stillwater.  Gates  was  unskil- 
ful, and  perhaps  cowardly,  while  Schuyler's  friends  were  indig- 
nant at  his  displacement ;  but  Arnold,  Morgan,  Poor,  Learned, 
Fellows,  Dearborn,  Cilley,  Cook,  Scammel,  Glover,  and  others 
were  there,  and  no  one  in  the  patriot  ranks  had  a  doubt.  Bur- 
goyne crossed  the  Hudson  on  the  13th  and  14th,  and  encamped 
at  Saratoga;  but,  delayed  by  bad  roads  and  broken  bridges,  in 
four  days  he  did  not  progress  as  many  miles.  It  was  not  until  the 
1 8th  that  he  reached  Wilbur's  Basin,  two  miles  from  Bemis's 
Heights,  and  proposed  to  attack  the  Americans.  Their  position 
was  a  very  strong  one,  and,  under  Kosciusko's  direction,  had 
been  carefully  fortified.  The  line  of  entrenchments  was  circular 
in  form,  with  the  right  resting  on  the  river  and  the  left  on  a  ridge 
of  hills.  About  ten  o'clock  the  next  forenoon  the  British  army 
advanced  in  three  columns.  The  left  wing,  with  the  artillery 
under  Phillips  and  Riedesel,  was  to  move  along  the  flat  by  the 
river ;  Burgoyne  himself  commanded  the  centre ;  and  Fraser  led 
the  right  by  a  circuit  upon  the  ridge  to  attack  the  American  left 
wing.  Upon  the  front  and  flanks  of  the  columns  hung  tories, 
Canadians,  and  Indians.  Gates  desired  to  await  an  attack.  At 
the  urgent  solicitation  of  Arnold,  however,  he  finally  sent  out 
Morgan  with  his  riflemen  and  Major  Dearborn  with  the  infantry. 
The  former  passed  unobserved  through  the  wood,  but  driving 
back  a  party  of  Canadians  and  Indians  too  vigorously,  he  unex- 
pectedly came  upon  the  main  body  of  the  English.  His  men 
were  scattered,  and  for  a  moment  he  was  left  almost  alone.  A 
shrill  whistle  soon  brought  his  sharp-shooters  around  him.  Cilley 
and  Scammel  coming  to  his  aid  with  the  New  Hampshire  regi- 
ments, a  sharp  contest  ensued.     The  battle  now  lulled,  Phillips 


214  THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [^!777.^' 

bringing  up  artillery  on  one  side  and  Cook  the  Connecticut 
militia  on  the  other. 

At  three  o'clock  the  struggle  began  again,  not  far  from  the 
same  point.  Gates  had  no  plan ;  there  was  consequently  no 
manoeuvring.  Both  sides  were  on  gentle  eminences,  partly  shel- 
tered by  wood,  and  out  of  gun-shot  of  each  other ;  between  them 
was  an  open  field.  The  British  advanced  to  clear  the  wood  of  the 
Americans ;  they  sallied  forth  and  drove  the  English  from  their 
guns,  who,  in  turn,  rallied.  Thus  the  tide  of  battle  ebbed  to  and 
fro.  The  cannon  were  taken  and  retaken  several  times.  Too  late 
to  accomplish  anything,  Learned  with  a  brigade  went  around  to 
attack  the  British  in  the  rear;  but  Riedesel  with  some  Hessians 
climbed  the  hill  and  fell  upon  the  American  flank.  Darkness  now 
coming  on,  the  patriots  quietly  drew  back  to  their  entrenchments. 
Twice  during  the  evening,  however,  there  were  sharp  skirmishes, 
and  the  last  American  did  not  leave  the  field  until  eleven  o'clock. 
The  English  lay  on  their  arms  near  by,  and  technically  claimed 
the  victory,  though  they  had  not  gained  their  end,  which  was  to 
dislodge  the  Americans  from  their  position ;  while  the  latter  had 
gained  theirs  by  preventing  the  British  from  advancing.  Each 
side,  however,  took  to  itself  the  honor,  and  supposed  that  with  a 
part  of  its  forces  it  had  beaten  the  whole  of  the  hostile  band.  In 
fact,  only  about  three  thousand  of  either  army  were  engaged.  The 
American  loss  was  not  far  from  four  hundred,  and  the  English  five 
hundred.  The  fire  of  the  American  riflemen  was  excessively 
annoying.  They  climbed  the  trees  and  picked  off"  the  English 
officers.  A  bullet  designed  for  Burgoyne  struck  the  arm  of  an 
aid  who  was  just  handing  him  a  letter.  In  one  battery  three- 
fourths  of  the  artillerymen  were  killed  or  wounded,  and  every 
officer  save  one  was  struck. 

The  next  morning  Arnold  urged  that  the  work  should  be 
followed  up,  and  Burgoyne's  shattered  forces  be  attacked  at  once 
before  they  had  time  to  prepare  entrenchments  or  to  recover 
from  their  exhaustion.  Gates  resented  the  interference.  A 
quarrel  ensued,  and  Arnold  demanded  a  pass  to  go  to  General 
Washington,  which  was  granted.  Seeing  how  discreditable  it 
would  be  to  leave  just  before  a  battle,  Arnold  finally  remained  in 
his  tent,  but  without  any  troops,  as  the  command  of  the  right 
wing  was  given  to  Lincoln. 

For  over  two  weeks  both  armies  lay  in  their  camps,  which 
were  only  a  cannon-shot  apart,  carefully  fortifying  themselves  and 


^fV?^']  SECOND  BATTLE  OF  SARATOGA.  .  21$ 

watching  an  opportunity  to  catch  each  other  at  a  disadvantage. 
Burgoyne's  position  was  now  perilous  in  the  extreme.  He  had 
six  or  eight  hundred  sick  and  wounded  in  hospital ;  his  horses 
were  weakened  by  work  and  want ;  and  he  was  forced  to  cut  off 
one-third  of  the  daily  rations  of  his  men.  Patriot  bands  swarmed 
everywhere,  breaking  down  bridges  and  harassing  the  pickets 
and  foraging  parties.  Neither  officer  nor  soldier  dared  to  remove 
his  clothes  at  any  time,  and  the  camp  was  in  almost  constant 
alarm.  One  night  twenty  young  farmers,  residing  near  by, 
resolved  to  capture  the  enemy's  advance  picket-guard.  Armed 
with  fowling-pieces,  they  marched  silently  through  the  woods 
until  they  were  within  a  few  yards  of  the  station.  They  then 
rushed  out  from  the  bushes,  the  captain  blowing  an  old  horse- 
trumpet  and  the  men  yelling.  There  was  no  time  for  the  senti- 
nel's hail.  "  Ground  your  arms,  or  you  are  all  dead  men !  '* 
cried  the  patriot  captain.  Thinking  that  a  large  force  had  fallen 
upon  them,  the  picket  obeyed.  The  young  farmers,  with  all  the 
parade  of  regulars,  led  back  to  the  American  camp  over  thirty 
British  soldiers. 

Burgoyne  was  in  constant  hope  of  being  relieved  by  the 
promised  expedition  of  Clinton  up  the  Hudson  River,  as  in  that 
event  Gates  would  necessarily  send  a  part  of  his  army  to  the 
defence  of  Albany.  On  the  21st  Burgoyne  received  a  letter  in 
cipher  from  Clinton,  stating  that  he  was  about  to  start.  Greatly 
encouraged  thereby,  he  replied  that  he  could  hold  on  till  Novem- 
ber 1 2th.  Every  day,  however,  the  net  of  his  difficulties  was  drawn 
about  him  more  and  more  tightly.  The  time  came  when  he  must 
either  fight  or  fly.  On  the  7th  of  October  he  attempted  a  recon- 
noissance  in  force,  in  order  to  cover  a  large  foraging  party,  and 
also,  if  opportunity  offered,  to  turn  the  left  of  the  American  line. 
For  this  service  fifteen  hundred  picked  men  were  selected.  Bur- 
goyne led  them  in  person,  and  under  him  were  Fraser,  Riedesel, 
and  Phillips.  Marching  out  of  camp,  they  formed  in  double  ranks 
on  a  low  ridge,  less  than  a  mile  northwest  of  the  American  camp, 
and  awaited  events.  Meanwhile  the  foragers  were  busy  getting 
supplies,  and  the  officers  were  scanning  the  patriot  lines. 

Morgan  with  his  riflemen.  Poor's  New  Hampshire  brigade, 
and  Dearborn's  light  infantry  were  thereupon  ordered  to  attack 
simultaneously  the  enemy's  right  and  left  flanks.  Steadily  the 
New  Hampshire  men  mounted  up  the  slope,  received  one  volley, 
and  then  with  a  shout  dashed  forward  to  the  very  mouth  of  the 


2l6  THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  Kyy^.' 

cannon.  So  fierce  was  the  contest  that  one  piece  was  taken  and 
retaken  several  times.  Colonel  Cilley  leaped  upon  it,  waved  his 
sword,  "  dedicating  the  gun  to  the  American  cause,"  and  then, 
with  their  own  ammunition,  opened  it  upon  the  enemy.  It  was 
the  very  inspiration  of  courage.  Major  Ackland  was  severely 
wounded.  The  British  lines  broke.  Meanwhile,  Morgan  had 
driven  back  Fraser,  who  was  covering  the  English  right,  and 
fallen  on  that  flank  so  impetuously  that  it  was  already  in  retreat. 
Arnold,  who  was  chafing  in  camp  and  anxious  "  to  right  himself," 
as  he  said,  *'  with  the  sword,"  sprang  to  his  saddle  and  rushed 
into  the  fray.  **  He  will  do  some  rash  thing,"  shouted  Gates,  and 
ordered  his  aid,  Major  Armstrong,  to  call  him  back ;  but  Arnold, 
suspecting  the  message,  put  spurs  to  his  beautiful  brown  horse, 
named  Warren  after  the  hero  of  Bunker  Hill,  and  was  soon  out 
of  reach.  He  had  no  right  to  fight,  much  less  to  lead,  but  his 
Tank  and  valor  gave  him  authority  at  once.  Dashing  to  the  head 
of  a  part  of  Learned's  brigade,  where  he  was  received  with 
cheers  by  his  old  command,  he  ordered  a  charge  on  the  centre  of 
the  British  line.  Leading  the  onset,  delivering  his  orders  in 
person  where  the  bullets  flew  thickest,  he  galloped  to  and  fro 
over  the  field  as  if  possessed  by  the  very  demon  of  battle.  In 
his  rage  he  struck  an  American  officer  on  the  head  with  his  sword 
without  being  conscious  of  the  fact,  as  he  afterward  declared. 
His  headlong  valor  inspired  the  troops  with  desperate  courage. 
At  the  second  charge  the  English  gave  way. 

Fraser  was  busy  forming  another.line  in  the  rear.  Brave  to  a 
fault  and  chivalric  in  his  sense  of  duty,  this  gallant  officer  was  the 
mind  and  soul  of  the  British  army.  Morgan  saw  that  he  alone 
stood  between  the  Americans  and  victory.  Calling  to  him  some 
of  his  best  men,  he  said,  "  That  gallant  officer  is  General  Fraser. 
I  admire  and  honor  him  ;  but  he  must  die.  Stand  among  those 
bushes  and  do  your  duty."  Mounted  on  an  iron-gray  charger 
and  dressed  in  full  uniform,  Fraser  was  a  conspicuous  mark.  A 
bullet  cut  the  crupper  of  his  horse  and  another  his  mane.  "  You 
are  singled  out,  general,"  said  his  aide-de-camp ;  ''  had  you  not 
better  shift  your  ground  ? "  "  My  duty  forbids  me  to  fly  from 
danger,"  was  the  reply.  A  moment  after  he  fell  mortally 
wounded. 

Just  then  the  New  York  men  under  Ten  Broeck,  coming  on 
the  field,  swept  all  before  them.  Burgoyne  sought  to  stay  the 
tide ;   a  bullet  went  through  his  hat  and  another  tore  his  vest. 


Oct.  7,n 

1777.  J 


SECOND    BATTLE    OF    SARATOGA. 


217 


The  Americans  urged  the  pursuit  up  to  the  very  entrenchments. 
Arnold,  maddened  by  the  fight,  stormed  the  camp  of  the  light 
infantry  under  Earl  Balcarras,  the  strongest  part  of  the  English 
line.  For  an  hour  the  useless  struggle  continued.  Repulsed,  he 
rode  to  the  American  left,  all  the  way  exposed  to  the  cross-fire  of 
both  armies,  and  ordered  a  general  assault  on  the  British  right. 


GENERAL  ERASER  COVERED  BY  SHARP-SHOOTERS. 


A  stockade  was  carried,  and  Breyman  with  his  Germans  was  cut 
off  from  the  main  body  of  the  British  army.  As  Arnold  dashed 
into  a  sally-port,  the  Hessians  fired  a  parting  volley,  wounding 
him  in  the  same  leg  as  at  Quebec.  At  that  moment  Armstrong 
came  up  with  Gates's  order.  He  was  borne  from  the  field,  but 
he  had  already  gained  a  victory  while  his  commander  stayed  in 
his  tent.  Breyman  being  mortally  wounded,  his  men  lost  heart 
and  over  two  hundred  surrendered.  This  position  was  the  key 
to  the  British  line.  Burgoyne  tried  to  rally  his  men  to  retake  it ; 
but  darkness  closed  the  hard-fought  contest.  The  Americans  lay 
on  their  arms  ready  to  renew  the  struggle  in  the  morning. 

During  the  night,  Burgoyne  evacuated  a  part  of  his  entrench- 
ments, and  gathered  his  army  upon  the  heights  around  the  hos- 
pital, with  the  river  in  the  rear  and  a  deep  ravine  in  front.  His 
new  position  was  so  strong  that  Gates  did  not  deem  it  best  to 
hazard  an  attack.  Eraser,  in  his  dying  moments,  requested  that  he 
might  be  buried  at  six  in  the  evening  on  the  top  of  a  little  knoll  in 


2l8  THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  l^mi^' 

the  great  redoubt.  Just  at  sunset  his  body  was  borne  thither  ac- 
companied by  Burgoyne,  Phillips,  and  Riedesel.  The  American 
cannoneers  were  attracted  by  the  presence  of  the  officers,  and, 
ignorant  of  the  sad  ceremony  which  was  being  enacted,  their  balls 
fell  thick  about  the  chaplain  as  he  read  the  solemn  burial  service. 
So  Fraser  was  entombed,  as  he  had  died,  amid  the  roar  of  artillery. 

Burgoyne  now  renewed  the  retreat.  The  rain  fell  in  torrents, 
and  the  roads  were  so  badly  cut  up  that  he  did  not  reach  Sara- 
toga, a  distance  of  six  miles,  until  the  next  night.  The  men,  too 
much  exhausted  to  procure  wood  or  build  fires,  lay  down  on  the 
ground  and  slept  in  the  fast-falling  rain.  On  the  loth  they  crossed 
the  Fishkill  and  made  their  last  encampment.  The  fine  house  and 
mills  of  General  Schuyler  at  the  ford  were  burned  by  order  of 
General  Burgoyne.  The  British  were  now  hemmed  in  on  all 
sides.     The  end  was  near. 

Just  at  this  time  occurred  a  circumstance  which  illustrates  the 
small  events  on  which  depend  the  fortunes  of  war.  Gates  received 
word  that  Burgoyne  had  sent  on  the  bulk  of  his  army  toward  the 
north.  He  determined  at  once  to  cut  off  the  rear-guard  still  left 
in  camp.  The  British  general  in  some  manner  became  advised  of 
the  plan,  and  put  his  best  troops  in  ambush,  where  he  could  fire 
upon  the  Americans  at  the  very  moment  of  victory.  All  appar- 
ently went  well.  A  patriot  brigade  had  crossed  the  creek  and 
another  was  just  entering,  a  dense  fog  concealing  the  movement. 
Just  then  a  British  deserter  came  in  and  revealed  the  plot.  Mes- 
sengers were  hurried  out  and  the  troops  ordered  back,  but  not 
without  some  loss.  A  few  minutes  more,  and  the  success  of  the 
whole  campaign  would  have  been  imperiled. 

A  reconnoitering  party  sent  on  to  Fort  Edward  reported  that 
the  crossing  was  held  by  General  Stark.  The  opposite  bank  of 
the  Hudson  was  lined  with  the  Americans.  Bateaux  containing 
part  of  their  scanty  stock  of  provisions  had  been  seized,  the  rest 
being  saved  only  by  bringing  them  up  the  steep  bank  under  a 
heavy  cannonade.  No  word  was  received  from  General  Clinton, 
Every  part  of  the  camp  was  searched  out  by  the  American  fire. 
Water  was  scarce,  and  no  one  dared  to  get  it,  until  a  woman 
volunteered,  when  the  sharpshooters,  respecting  her  sex,  let  her 
pass  unharmed.  While  a  council  of  war  held  in  Burgoyne's  tent 
was  considering  the  necessity  of  a  surrender,  several  grape-shot 
struck  near,  and  an  eighteen-pound  cannon-ball  passed  over  the 
table  around  which  the  officers  sat.     Under  these  circumstances 


Oct.  I7,-| 
1777.  J 


SURRENDER    OF    BURGOYNE. 


219 


MONTREAL 


a  decision  was  quickly  made.  They  resolved  to  treat  for  capitu- 
lation. At  first  Gates  demanded  an  unconditional  surrender ;  but 
knowing  that  Clinton  had  captured  the  forts  in  the  Highlands 
commanding  the  passage  of  the  Hudson,  he  consented  that  the 
British  should  be  taken  to  Boston  and  be 
allowed  to  return  to  England,  on  condi- 
tion of  not  serving  in  the  war  again  until 
exchanged.  When  Burgoyne  heard  from 
a  deserter  of  Clinton's  progress,  he  hesi- 
tated to  sign  the  conditions;  but  Gates 
drew  up  his  army  and  threatened  to  open 
fire.     Whereupon  Burgoyne  yielded. 

A  detachment  of  Americans  marched 
into  the  British  camp  to  the  lively  air  of 
Yankee  Doodle,  while  the  English  army 
gravely  filed  out  and  laid  down  their 
arms.  With  a  delicate  consideration,  the 
Continental  forces  were  withdrawn  from 
sight,  and  the  only  American  officer  pres- 
ent was  Major  Wilkinson,  who  had  charge 
of  the  arrangements.  The  total  number 
surrendered  was  five  thousand  seven  hun- 
dred and  ninety-one,  besides  one  thousand 
eight  hundred  and  fifty -six  prisoners  of 
war,  including  sick  and  wounded.  Forty- 
two  brass  cannon  and  forty -six  hundred 
muskets,  with  abundant  munitions  of  war, 
were  among  the  trophies.  After  this  cere- 
mony was  over.  Generals  Burgoyne  and 
Gates  advanced  to  meet  each  other  at  the 
head  of  their  staffs.  The  former  was 
dressed  in  a  magnificent  uniform  of  scarlet 
and  gold,  and  the  latter  in  a  plain  blue 
frock-coat.  It  was  a  marked  contrast  be- 
tween vanquished  and  victor.  When  they 
had  approached  nearly  within  a  sword's 
length,  they  halted,  and  Burgoyne,  with  a  graceful  obeisance,  said, 
"  The  fortune  of  war,  General  Gates,  has  made  me  your  prisoner." 
General  Gates,  returning  the  salute,  replied,  ''  I  shall  always  be 
ready  to  testify  that  it  has  not  been  through  any  fault  of  your 
excellency." 


220  THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  f™ 


LI777. 


As  they  met  after  these  formalities,  Gates  used  the  common  ex- 
pression, ^^  I  am  very  happy  to  see  you''  ^'  I  believe  you  are,"  replied 
Burgoyne.  Gates,  pretending  not  to  hear  the  retort,  invited  him 
to  his  marquee,  where  they  partook  of  a  sumptuous  dinner.  In  the 
afternoon,  the  English  troops  were  marched  between  the  double 
lines  of  the  Americans,  and,  in  presence  of  both  armies,  Burgoyne 
handed  his  sword  to  Gates,  who  promptly  returned  it.  The 
tragedy  was  finished.  The  northern  invasion  had  proved  an  in- 
glorious failure.  The  prisoners  were  forwarded  to  Boston,  but 
the  British  government  failing  to  ratify  the  agreement,  and  fears 
arising  that  the  men,  if  given  up,  would  be  at  once  turned  into 
the  British  army.  Congress  ordered  them  to  be  sent  into  the 
interior  of  Virginia.  The  action  caused  much  excitement  and 
was  fruitful  of  mutual  recriminations  between  the  two  countries. 
Late  in  the  fall,  the  "  convention  troops,"  as  they  were  called, 
were  marched  seven  hundred  miles  across  the  country  to  Char- 
lottesville, Virginia.  Here  comfortable  barracks  were  built  the 
next  summer;  an  extensive  territory  was  cleared,  and  gardens 
were  laid  out  and  beautifully  cultivated  by  them.  At  the  close 
of  the  war  many  of  the  prisoners  remained  among  their  fellow- 
Germans  and  became  useful  citizens. 

The  picture  of  this  celebrated  invasion  would  be  incomplete 
without  referring  to  the  pathetic  account  left  by  Madame  Riede- 
sel,  who  followed  her  husband  throughout  the  disastrous  cam- 
paign. This  lady  had  a  large  calash  made  for  her  use,  capable  of 
holding  herself,  three  children,  and  two  female  servants,  in  which 
they  accompanied  the  army  on  their  march.  After  they  encamped, 
a  small  square  building,  with  a  capacious  chimney,  was  erected 
for  her  comfort.  She  goes  on  to  relate  :  "  On  the  7th  of  October 
our  misfortunes  began.  I  was  at  breakfast  with  my  husband,  and 
heard  that  something  was  intended.  On  the  same  day  I  expected 
Generals  Burgoyne,  Phillips,  and  Fraser  to  dine  with  us.  I  saw 
a  great  movement  among  the  troops  ;  my  husband  told  me  it  was 
merely  a  reconnoissance,  which  gave  me  no  concern,  as  it  often 
happened.  I  walked  out  of  the  house,  and  met  several  Indians 
in  their  war-dresses,  with  guns  in  their  hands.  When  I  asked 
them  where  they  were  going,  they  cried  out,  *  War  !  war  ! '  mean- 
ing that  they  were  going  to  battle.  This  filled  me  with  appre- 
hension, and  I  had  scarcely  got  home  before  I  heard  reports  of 
cannon  and  musketry,  which  grew  louder  by  degrees,  till  at  last 
the  noise  became  excessive. 


{^'^yj  MADAME    RIEDESEL'S  NARRATIVE.  221 

"About  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  instead  of  the  guests 
whom  I  expected,  General  Fraser  was  brought  on  a  litter,  mor- 
tally wounded.  The  table,  which  was  already  set,  was  instantly 
removed,  and  a  bed  placed  in  its  stead  for  the  wounded  general. 
I  sat  trembling  in  a  corner ;  the  noise  grew  louder,  and  the  alarm 
increased  ;  the  thought  that  my  husband  might  perhaps  be  brought 
in,  wounded  in  the  same  manner,  was  terrible  to  me,  and  dis- 
tressed me  exceedingly.  General  Fraser  said  to  the  surgeon, 
*  Tell  me  if  my  wound  is  mortal ;  do  not  flatter  me.*  The  ball 
had  passed  through  his  body,  and,  unhappily  for  the  general,  he 
had  eaten  a  very  hearty  breakfast,  by  which  the  stomach  was  dis- 
tended, and  the  ball,  as  the  surgeon  said,  had  passed  through  it. 
I  heard  him  often  exclaim  with  a  sigh,  '  Oh !  fatal  ambition !  Poor 
General  Burgoyne !  Oh  !  my  poor  wife ! '  He  was  asked  if  he 
had  any  request  to  make,  to  which  he  replied  that,  *  If  General 
Burgoyne  would  permit  it,  he  should  like  to  be  buried  at  six 
o'clock  in  the  evening,  on  the  top  of  a  mountain,  in  a  redoubt 
which  had  been  built  there.* 

"  I  did  not  know  which  way  to  turn  ;  all  the  other  rooms  were 
full  of  sick.  Toward  evening  I  saw  my  husband  coming  ;  then  I 
forgot  all  my  sorrows,  and  thanked  God  that  he  was  spared  to 
me.  He  ate  in  great  haste,  with  me  and  his  aide-de-camp,  behind 
the  house.  We  had  been  told  that  we  had  the  advantage  over  the 
enemy,  but  the  sorrowful  faces  I  beheld  told  a  different  tale  ;  and 
before  my  husband  went  away  he  took  me  aside,  and  said  every- 
thing was  going  very  badly,  and  that  I  must  keep  myself  in 
readiness  to  leave  the  place,  but  not  to  mention  it  to  any  one.  I 
made  the  pretence  that  I  would  move  the  next  morning  into  my 
new  house,  and  had  everything  packed  up  ready.  *  *  * 
**  I  could  not  go  to  sleep,  as  I  had  General  Fraser  and  all  the 
other  wounded  gentlemen  in  my  room,  and  I  was  sadly  afraid  my 
children  would  wake,  and  by  their  crying  disturb  the  dying  man 
in  his  last  moments,  who  often  addressed  me  and  apologized  '  for 
the  trouble  he  gave  me.'  About  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  I 
was  told  that  he  could  not  hold  out  much  longer ;  I  had  desired 
to  be  informed  of  the  near  approach  of  this  sad  crisis,  and  I  then 
wrapped  up  my  children  in  their  clothes,  and  went  with  them 
into  the  room  below.  About  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  he 
died. 

**  After  he  was  laid  out,  and  his  corpse  wrapped  up  in  a  sheet, 
we  came  again  into  the  room,  and  had  this  sorrowful  sight  before 


222  THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [ 


Octn 
1777 


US  the  whole  day ;  and,  to  add  to  the  melancholy  scene,  almost 
every  moment  some  officer  of  my  acquaintance  was  brought  in 
wounded.  The  cannonade  commenced  again ;  a  retreat  was 
spoken  of,  but  not  the  smallest  motion  was  made  toward  it. 
About  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  I  saw  the  house  which  had 
just  been  built  for  me  in  flames,  and  the  enemy  was  now  not  far 
off.  We  knew  that  General  Burgoyne  would  not  refuse  the  last 
request  of  General  Fraser,  though,  by  his  acceding  to  it,  an 
unnecessary  delay  was  occasioned,  by  which  the  inconvenience 
of  the  army  was  increased." 

As  soon  as  the  funeral  service  was  finished  and  the  grave  of 
General  Fraser  closed,  an  order  was  issued  that  the  army  should 
fall  back. 

**  The  retreat  was  ordered  to  be  conducted  with  the  greatest 
silence  ;  many  fires  were  lighted,  and  several  tents  left  standing ; 
we  traveled  continually  during  the  night.  At  six  o'clock  in  the 
morning  we  halted,  which  excited  the  surprise  of  all ;  General 
Burgoyne  had  the  cannon  ranged  and  counted  ;  this  delay  seemed 
to  displease  everybody,  for  if  we  could  only  have  made  another 
good  march,  we  should  have  been  in  safety.  My  husband,  quite 
exhausted  with  fatigue,  came  into  my  calash,  and  slept  for  three 
hours.  During  that  time  Captain  Wiloe  brought  me  a  bag  full  of 
bank-notes  and  Captain  Grismar  his  elegant  watch,  a  ring,  and  a 
purse  full  of  money,  which  they  requested  me  to  take  care  of,  and 
which  I  promised  to  do  to  the  utmost  of  my  power.  We  again 
marched,  but  had  scarcely  proceeded  an  hour  before  we  halted, 
as  the  enemy  was  in  sight ;  it  proved  to  be  only  a  reconnoitering 
party  of  two  hundred  men,  who  might  easily  have  been  made 
prisoners  if  General  Burgoyne  had  given  proper  orders  on  the 
occasion. 

"  About  evening  we  arrived  at  Saratoga ;  my  dress  was  wet 
through  and  through  with  rain,  and  in  this  state  I  had  to  remain 
the  whole  night,  having  no  place  to  change  it ;  I,  however,  got 
close  to  a  large  fire,  and  at  last  lay  down  on  some  straw.  At  this 
moment  General  Phillips  came  up  to  me,  and  I  asked  him  why 
he  had  not  continued  our  retreat,  as  my  husband  had  promised  to 
cover  it  and  bring  the  army  through.  '  Poor,  dear  woman,'  said 
he,  *  I  wonder  how,  drenched  as  you  are,  you  have  the  courage 
still  to  persevere  and  venture  further  in  this  kind  of  weather  ;  I 
wish,'  continued  he,  *  you  were  our  commanding  general ;  Gene- 
ral Burgoyne  is  tired,  and  means  to  halt  here  to-night  and  give  us 
our  supper.' 


^fil]  MADAME    RIEDESEL'S    NARRATIVE.  223 

"  On  the  morning  of  the  loth,  at  ten  o'clock,  General  Burgoyne 
ordered  the  retreat  to  be  continued.  The  greatest  misery  at  this 
time  prevailed  in  the  army,  and  more  than  thirty  officers  came  to 
me,  for  whom  tea  and  coffee  were  prepared,  and  with  whom  I 
shared  all  my  provisions,  with  which  my  calash  was  in  general  well 
supplied ;  for  I  had  a  cook  who  was  an  excellent  caterer,  and  who 
often  in  the  night  crossed  small  rivers  and  foraged  on  the  inhabi- 
tants, bringing  in  with  him  sheep,  small  pigs,  and  poultry,  for 
which  he  very  often  forgot  to  pay. 

"About  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  we  again  heard  a  firing 
of  cannon  and  small  arms  ;  instantly  all  was  alarm,  and  everything 
in  motion.  My  husband  told  me  to  go  to  a  house  not  far  off.  I 
immediately  seated  myself  in  my  calash  with  my  children  and 
drove  off;  but  scarcely  had  I  reached  it  before  I  discovered  five 
or  six  armed  men  on  the  other  side  of  the  Hudson.  Instinctively 
I  threw  my  children  down  in  the  calash,  and  then  concealed  my- 
self with  them.  At  this  moment  the  fellows  fired,  and  wounded 
an  already  wounded  English  soldier  who  was  behind  me.  Poor 
fellow  !  I  pitied  him  exceedingly,  but  at  this  moment  had  no 
means  or  power  to  relieve  him. 

"  A  terrible  cannonade  was  commenced  by  the  enemy  against 
the  house  in  which  I  sought  to  obtain  shelter  for  myself  and 
children,  under  the  mistaken  idea  that  all  the  generals  were  in  it. 
Alas !  it  contained  none  but  wounded  and  women.  We  were  at 
last  obliged  to  resort  to  the  cellar  for  refuge,  and  in  one  corner  of 
this  I  remained  the  whole  day,  my  children  sleeping  on  the  earth 
with  their  heads  in  my  lap  ;  and  in  the  same  situation  I  passed  a 
sleepless  night.  Eleven  cannon-balls  passed  through  the  house, 
and  we  could  distinctly  hear  them  roll  away.  One  poor  soldier, 
who  was  lying  on  a  table  for  the  purpose  of  having  his  leg  ampu- 
tated, was  struck  by  a  shot,  which  carried  away  his  other ;  his 
comrades  had  left  him,  and  when  we  went  to  his  assistance,  we 
found  him  in  the  corner  of  a  room,  into  which  he  had  crept,  more 
dead  than  alive,  scarcely  breathing.  My  reflections  on  the  dan- 
ger to  which  my  husband  was  exposed  now  agonized  me  exceed- 
ingly, and  the  thoughts  of  my  children  and  the  necessity  of 
struggling  for  their  preservation  alone  sustained  me.         *        * 

"  I  now  occupied  myself  through  the  day  in  attending  the 
wounded  ;  I  made  them  tea  and  coffee,  and  often  shared  my  din- 
ner with  them,  for  which  they  offered  me  a  thousand  expressions 
of  gratitude.     One  day  a  Canadian  officer  came  to  our  cellar,  who 


224 


THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 


roct., 
L1777, 


had  scarcely  the  power  of  holding  himself  upright,  and  we  con- 
cluded he  was  dying  for  want  of  nourishment ;  I  was  happy  in 
offering  him  my  dinner,  which  strengthened  him  and  procured 
me  his  friendship.  I  now  undertook  the  care  of  Major  Bloom- 
field,  another  aide-de-camp  of  General  Phillips ;  he  had  received 
a  musket-ball  through  both  cheeks,  which  in  its  course  had 
knocked  out  several  of  his  teeth  and  cut  his  tongue  ;  he  could 
hold  nothing  in  his  mouth,  the  matter  which  ran  from  his  wound 

almost  choked  him,  and 
he  was  not  able  to  take 
any  nourishment  ex- 
cept a  little  soup,  or 
something  liquid.  We 
had  some  Rhenish 
wine,  and  in  the  hope 
that  the  acidity  of  it 
would  cleanse  his 
wound,  I  gave  him  a 
bottle  of  it.  He  took 
a  little  now  and  then, 
and  with  such  effect 
that  his  cure  soon  fol- 
lowed ;  thus  I  added 
another  to  my  stock  of 
friends,  and  derived  a 
satisfaction  which,  in 
the  midst  of  sufferings, 
served  to  tranquillize 
me  and  diminish  their 
acuteness. 

''  One  day  General 
Phillips  accompanied 
my  husband,  at  the  risk  of  their  lives,  on  a  visit  to  us.  The 
general,  after  having  witnessed  our  situation,  said  to  him,  '  I 
would  not  for  ten  thousand  guineas  come  again  to  this  place; 
my  heart  is  almost  broken.' 

*'  In  this  horrid  situation  we  remained  six  days  ;  a  cessation  of 
hostilities  was  now  spoken  of,  and  eventually  took  place.  On  the 
i6th,  however,  my  husband  had  to  repair  to  his  post  and  I  to  my 
cellar.  This  day  fresh  beef  was  served  out  to  the  officers,  who 
till  now  had  only  had  salt  provisions,  which  was  very  bad  for 
their  wounds. 


GENERAL  BURGOYNE. 


Oct.  17, 1 
1777.    J 


MADAME    RIEDESEL'S    NARRATIVE. 


225 


"  On  the  17th  of  October  the  convention  was  completed. 
General  Burgoyne  and  the  other  generals  waited  on  the  American 
General  Gates  ;  the  troops  laid  down  their  arms,  and  gave  them- 
selves up  prisoners  of  war ! 

"  My  husband  sent  a  message  to  me  to  come  over  to  him  with 
my  children.  I  seated  myself  once  more  in  my  dear  calash,  and 
then  rode  through  the  American  camp.  As  I  passed  on,  I  ob- 
served— and  this  was  a  great  consolation  to  me — that  no  one  eyed 
me  with  looks  of  re- 
sentment, but  that  they 
all  greeted  us,  and  even 
showed  compassion  in 
their  countenances  at 
the  sight  of  a  woman 
with  small  children.  I 
was,  I  confess,  afraid  to 
go  over  to  the  enemy, 
as  it  was  quite  a  new 
situation  to  me.  When 
I  drew  near  the  tents, 
a  handsome  man  ap- 
proached and  met  me, 
took  my  children  from 
the  calash,  and  hugged 
and  kissed  them,  which 
affected  me  almost  to 
tears.  *  You  tremble,' 
said  he,  addressing 
himself  to  me ;  '  be  not 
afraid.*  *  No,*  I  an- 
swered, *  you  seem  so 
kind  and  tender  to  my 
children,  it  inspires  me 
tent  of  General  Gates, 


GENERAL  GATES. 


with  courage.*  He  now  led  me  to  the 
where  I  found  Generals  Burgoyne  and 
Phillips,  who  were  on  a  friendly  footing  with  the  former.  Bur- 
goyne said  to  me,  '  Never  mind  ;  your  sorrows  have  now  an  end.' 
I  answered  him,  '  that  I  should  be  reprehensible  to  have  any 
cares,  as  he  had  none ;  and  I  was  pleased  to  see  him  on  such 
friendly  footing  with  General  Gates.'  All  the  generals  remained 
to  dine  with  General  Gates. 

"  The  same  gentleman  who  received  me  so  kindly  now  came 
15 


226  THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [^[Vljf' 

and  said  to  me,  *  You  will  be  very  much  embarrassed  to  eat  with 
all  these  gentlemen  ;  come  with  your  children  to  my  tent,  where 
I  will  prepare  for  you  a  frugal  dinner,  and  give  it  with  a  free 
will.'  I  said,  *  You  are  certainly  a  husband  and  a  father,  you 
have  shown  me  so  much  kindness.'  I  now  found  that  he  was 
Oeneral  Schuyler.  He  treated  me  with  excellent  smoked  tongue, 
beefsteaks,  potatoes,  and  good  bread  and  butter  !  Never  could  I 
liave  wished  to  eat  a  better  dinner ;  I  was  content ;  I  saw  all 
around  me  were  so  likewise  ;  and,  what  was  better  than  all,  my 
husband  was  out  of  danger. 

"After  dinner  General  Schuyler  begged  me  to  pay  him  a  visit 
at  his  house  in  Albany,  where  he  expected  also  to  receive  General 
Burgoyne.  Having  sent  to  my  husband  for  advice,  he  counselled 
me  to  accept  the  invitation." 

She  was  delighted  with  her  reception  at  General  Schuyler's 
hospitable  mansion,  and  records  that  Mrs.  Schuyler  and  her 
•daughters  '*  loaded  us  with  kindness,  and  behaved  in  the  same 
manner  toward  General  Burgoyne,  though  he  had  wantonly 
caused  their  splendid  country  establishment  to  be  burned." 
General  Schuyler's  gentlemanly  courtesy  was  characteristically 
shown  in  his  first  meeting  with  Burgoyne  after  the  surrender. 
The  latter,  remembering  his  unnecessary  destruction  of  the 
former's  property,  attempted  an  excuse.  **  That  was  the  fate  of 
war,"  replied  General  Schuyler  ;  "  I  beg  you,  say  no  more  about 
it."  Burgoyne,  in  a  speech  before  the  House  of  Commons,  adds : 
"  He  did  more :  he  sent  an  aide-de-camp  to  conduct  me  to 
Albany,  in  order,  as  he  expressed  it,  to  procure  better  quarters 
than  a  stranger  might  be  able  to  find.  That  gentleman  conducted 
me  to  a  very  elegant  house,  and,  to  my  great  surprise,  presented 
me  to  Mrs.  Schuyler  and  family.  In  that  house  I  remained  dur- 
ing my  whole  stay  in  Albany,  with  a  table  of  more  than  twenty 
covers  for  me  and  my  friends,  and  every  other  demonstration  of 
hospitality." 

We  turn  now  from  the  brilliant  exploits  at  Saratoga  to  a  sad 
and  sober  record,  relieved  only  by  episodes  of  heroism,  sacrifice, 
and  devotion.  Washington,  at  the  opening  of  the  campaign,  had 
not  over  seven  or  eight  thousand  men,  while  General  Howe 
moved  out  of  New  York  with  more  than  double  that  number,  all 
veterans  and  eager  for  battle.  The  last  of  May,  Washington 
removed  from  his  winter  quarters  at  Morristown  to  a  strong  posi- 
tion behind  the  Raritan  at  Middlebrook,  in  order  to  more  care- 


juiy23t^o^Aug.25.j        ^jj^   CAMPAIGN   IN   PENNSYLVANIA.  22/ 

fully  watch  General  Howe,  then  at  New  Brunswick.  It  was  yet 
uncertain  where  he  would  strike,  though  he  evidently  aimed  at 
Philadelphia.  In  June  he  tried  to  cut  off  Sullivan  at  Princeton, 
but  failing  in  that,  manoeuvred  to  force  Washington  to  a  general 
engagement.  The  American  Fabius  was  too  wary,  and  so  Howe 
turned  back  to  Staten  Island.  The  5th  of  July  he  began  to 
embark  the  army  on  his  brother's  fleet.  Slow  and  pleasure-lov- 
ing as  ever,  he  kept  the  troops  on  shipboard  in  the  sultry  sun  till 
the  23d,  when  he  put  out  to  sea.  There  was  great  doubt  where 
the  bolt  would  fall.  Now  there  were  rumors  that  he  would  enter 
the  Delaware ;  now  that  he  had  returned  and  ascended  the  Hud- 
son ;  and  then  that  he  had  sailed  for  Charleston.  Meantime,  the 
army  was  moved  to  Germantown  to  await  events.  At. last  the 
news  that  the  British  were  actually  in  the  Chesapeake  dispelled 
all  doubt. 

The  army  was  immediately  set  in  motion.  In  order  to  over- 
awe the  disaffected,  the  troops  were  marched  through  Philadel- 
phia, down  Front  and  up  Chestnut  streets.  The  soldiers  looked 
their  best  and  the  fifes  and  drums  played  merrily,  but  they  could 
not  hide  their  indifferent  equipments  and  the  fact  that  the  finest 
uniform  was  a  brown  linen  hunting-shirt.  To  make  the  army 
appear  somewhat  alike,  each  soldier  wore  in  his  hat  a  sprig  of 
green.  Washington  took  post  at  Wilmington,  while  troops  of 
light  horse  and  infantry  were  sent  on  to  annoy  the  advance  of 
the  enemy,  who  were  already  landing  at  the  head  of  the  Elk 
River.  The  patriot  cause  looked  almost  hopeless.  With  the 
greatest  efforts,  Washington  had  collected  only  about  eleven 
thousand  five  hundred  men,  while  the  English  numbered,  accord- 
ing to  returns  in  the  British  Department  of  State,  nineteen 
thousand  five  hundred,  besides  officers.  The  contrast  in  the  dis- 
cipline and  equipments  of  the  two  armies  was  yet  more  marked. 
Howe  was  within  fifty-four  miles  of  Philadelphia,  with  a  level 
country  before  him,  no  strong  positions  for  defence,  and  a  popula- 
tion largely  royalist  or  indifferent.  Yet  Washington  determined 
to  hazard  a  battle  before  yielding  the  national  capital. 

Considerable  skirmishing  now  took  place,  during  which 
occurred  one  of  those  wonderful  instances  of  preservation  so 
characteristic  of  Washington's  career.  **  We  had  not  lain  long," 
says  Major  Ferguson,  of  the  rifle  corps,  **  when  a  rebel  officer, 
remarkable  by  a  huzzar  dress,  pressed  toward  our  army,  within  a 
hundred   yards  of  my  right  flank,  not  perceiving  us.     He  was 


228  THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [fffj*; 

followed  by  another,  dressed  in  a  dark  green  and  blue,  mounted 
on  a  bay  horse,  with  a  remarkable  high  cocked-hat.  I  ordered 
three  good  shots  to  steal  near  and  fire  at  them  ;  but  the  idea  dis- 
gusting me,  I  recalled  the  order.  The  huzzar,  in  returning,  made 
a  circuit,  but  the  other  passed  within  a  hundred  yards  of  us,  upon 
which  I  advanced  from  the  wood  toward  him.  Upon  my  calling 
he  stopped,  but  after  looking  at  me  he  proceeded.  I  again  drew 
his  attention  and  made  signs  to  him  to  stop,  leveling  my  piece  at 
him  ;  but  he  slowly  cantered  away.  As  I  was  within  that  dis- 
tance at  which,  in  the  quickest  firing,  I  could  have  lodged  half  a 
dozen  balls  in  or  about  him  before  he  was  out  of  my  reach,  I  had 
only  to  determine  ;  but  it  was  not  pleasant  to  fire  at  the  back  of 
an  unoffending  individual  who  was  acquitting  himself  very  coolly 
of  his  duty  ;  so  I  let  him  alone.  The  day  after,  I  had  been  telling 
this  story  to  some  wounded  officers  who  lay  in  the  same  room 
with  me,  when  one  of  the  surgeons,  who  had  been  dressing  the 
wounded  rebel  officers,  came  in  and  told  us  that  they  had  in- 
formed him  that  General  Washington  was  all  the  morning  with 
the  light  troops,  and  only  attended  by  a  French  officer  in  a  huzzar 
dress,  he  himself  dressed  and  mounted  in  every  point  as  above 
described.  I  am  not  sorry  that  I  did  not  know  at  the  time  who 
it  was." 

Washington  finally  took  position  back  of  the  Brandywine  to 
defend  the  principal  route  to  Philadelphia,  which  crosses  at 
Chad's  Ford;  while  General  Sullivan  was  stationed  above  to 
watch  the  fords  and  protect  the  right  flank.  Howe  immediately 
made  his  arrangements  to  repeat  the  tactics  of  Long  Island. 
Knyphausen  and  the  Hessians  were  to  make  a  feint  of  forcing  a 
passage  at  Chad's  Ford,  while  Cornwallis  led  the  bulk  of  the  army 
higher  up  the  river.  Washington,  advised  of  the  movement,  de- 
cided to  cross  the  river  himself  and  cut  off  Knyphausen's  detach- 
ment before  Howe,  who  had  gone  on  with  Cornwallis,  could 
return  to  his  aid.  Word  was  at  once  dispatched  to  Sullivan  to 
move  over  the  fords  and  keep  Cornwallis  busy.  Unfortunately 
Sullivan  was  not  informed  of  the  progress  of  the  enemy,  and, 
relying  upon  insufficient  information,  disobeyed  his  orders  and 
halted.  Precious  time  was  lost.  The  plan  was  abandoned,  and 
before  Sullivan  could  believe  that  Cornwallis  had  left  Kennet 
Square,  in  front  of  Chad's  Ford,  he  was  actually,  with  thirteen 
thousand  men,  fairly  across  and  on  the  heights  near  Birmingham 
Meeting-House,  within  two  miles  of  his  own  right  flank.     Sulli- 


®^J*77,'']  BATTLE    OF    BRAND YWINE.  229 

van  now  did  what  he  could  to  remedy  the  terrible  mistake ;  but 
before  he  could  get  his  men  into  position,  the  British  were  upon 
fiim  with  the  bayonet.  The  raw  militia  hurled  back  charge  after 
charge,  but  at  length  gave  way  and  streamed  across  the  fields 
toward  the  main  body.  Lafayette,  struggling  sword  in  hand  to 
rally  the  fugitives,  was  shot  through  the  leg  by  a  musket  ball,  and 
was  helped  off  by  his  aide-de-camp. 

Meantime,  Washington  had  been  waiting  in  anxious  expecta- 
tion. Suddenly  a  whig  farmer,  named  Thomas  Cheney,  dashed 
into  camp,  his  horse  covered  with  foam,  and  informed  him  that 
while  out  reconnoitering  up  the  river,  he  had  suddenly  come  upon 
the  enemy ;  that  they  fired  upon  him,  and  he  had  only  escaped  by 
the  swiftness  of  his  horse.  Washington,  misled  so  often,  doubted 
the  intelligence,  but  the  man  exclaimed,  "  My  life  for  it,  you  are 
mistaken.  Put  me  under  guard  till  you  find  my  story  true!" 
Just  then  came  word  from  Sullivan,  and  soon  the  booming  of 
guns  told  that  the  news  was  only  too  correct.  Putting  himself  at 
the  head  of  a  division  of  Pennsylvanians  and  Virginians,  Washing- 
ton hastened  to  the  relief  of  the  imperiled  right.  Greene,  with 
one  brigade,  marched  four  miles  in  forty-two  minutes.  Opening 
his  ranks  to  let  the  flying  militia  pass  through,  he  closed  them 
again  to  check  the  pursuers.  At  a  narrow  defile  about  a  mile 
from  Dilworth,  which  Washington  had  already  selected,  he  took 
a  stand.  The  British  came  in  hot  haste,  expecting  no  opposition. 
But  Greene  held  his  ground  obstinately.  When  night  came  on, 
he  drew  off  his  men  at  leisure.  Wayne  defended  Chad's  Ford 
against  Knyphausen  until  the  heavy  cannonading,  and  finally  the 
appearance  of  the  British  on  his  flank,  warned  him  of  his  danger, 
when  he  retreated  in  good  order. 

Lafayette  gives  a  graphic  picture  of  the  scene  along  the  road 
to  Chester  during  the  flight  of  the  militia.  Terror  and  confusion 
were  everywhere ;  fugitives,  cannon,  and  wagons  recklessly 
crowded  along  pell-mell,  while,  above  all,  in  the  rear  sounded 
volleys  of  musketry  and  the  roar  of  the  guns.  Amid  the  disorder 
and  darkness,  it  was  impossible  to  check  the  torrent.  At  the 
bridge  in  Chester,  Lafayette  placed  a  guard.  Washington  and  the 
troops  of  Generals  Greene,  Wayne,  Armstrong,  and  others  here 
came  up,  and  the  wearied  army  found  repose.  The  English  had 
marched  far,  and  the  check  by  Greene  was  too  decided  to  admit 
of  any  further  pursuit. 

September  nth  had  been  a  sad  day  for  the  patriot  cause.     The 


230 


THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 


[^!?V. 


American  loss  was  about  one  thousand,  the  British  half  as  great. 
The  streets  of  Philadelphia  were  full  of  citizens  anxiously  listen- 
ing to  the  sound  of  the  cannonade.  When  news  came  of  the 
American  defeat,  the  whigs  were  in  consternation.  Many  de- 
serted their  homes  and  fled,  leaving  all  behind  them.  Congress 
that  evening  voted  to  adjourn  to  Lancaster,  whence  it  afterward 
removed  to  York  with  all  the  archives  of  the  government. 

In   this   time  of  general  fear,  one  loves   to   linger   on   single 
instances   of  heroism.      Among    the 
names  to  be   remembered  is  that  of 
Hannah  Irwin  Israel,  whose  husband 
was  a  prisoner  on  board  a 
British  frigate  in  full  sight 
of  his  own  house.     He  had 
been  heard  to  say  that  he 
would  sooner  drive  his  cS.t- 
tle  as  a  present  to  General 


Washington,  than 
to  receive  for  them 
thousands  of  dollars 
in  British  gold.  As 
a  retort,  a  detachment  of  soldiers 
was  sent  to  his  meadow  to  slaugh- 
ter his  cattle  before  his  eyes.  His 
spirited  young  wife,  who  was  not 
yet  out  of  her  teens,  saw  the  move- 
ment, and  with  quick  wit  divined  its  cause.  Taking  with  her 
a  young  boy,  only  eight  years  of  age,  she  ran  to  the  field, 
threw  down  the  bars,  and  commenced  to  drive  out  the  cattle. 
"  Stop,  or  we  shall  shoot  you ! "  shouted  the  soldiers.  "  Fire 
away ! "  was  the  only  answer  of  the  intrepid  woman,  intent  on  her 
determination.  The  balls  fell  thick  and  fast  about  her,  but  she 
carried  her  point,  saved  her  property,  and  saw  the  foiled  enemy 
go  empty-handed  back  to  their  ship.     Her  husband  was  tried,  and 


Sep]y^2-20.-]  THE    MASSACRE    AT    PAOLI.  23 1 

only  saved  his  life  by  giving  the  Masonic  sign  to  the  presiding 
officer,  who,  he  had  discovered,  was  a  member  of  the  order.  At 
this  magical  signal  everything  was  changed.  The  patriot,  who 
had  been  served  with  the  meanest  of  food  and  whose  bed  was  a 
coil  of  ropes  on  the  open  deck,  was  now  sent  to  his  home,  in  a 
splendid  barge,  loaded  with  presents  for  his  heroic  wife,  while  the 
tory  witnesses  who  had  caused  his  arrest,  received  a  reprimand 
for  wishing  harm  to  an  honorable  man. 

Washington  was  in  nowise  discouraged  by  the  defeat  of 
Brandywine.  The  next  day  he  moved  to  Germantown,  where 
he  gave  his  men  only  a  day's  rest,  and  then  recrossed  the  Schuyl- 
kill, and  taking  the  Lancaster  road,  went  out  to  meet  Howe  again, 
if  need  be,  on  the  same  field.  The  two  armies  came  in  sight  near 
the  Warren  tavern,  twenty  miles  from  Philadelphia.  The  ad- 
vanced posts  had  begun  to  skirmish,  and  a  battle  seemed  immi- 
nent, when  a  deluging  rain,  which  lasted  for  twenty-four  hours, 
checked  all  movements.  The  Americans  had  no  tents  or  blankets, 
their  guns  became  wet,  and  finally  it  was  discovered  that  the 
cartridge-boxes  were  so  poorly  made  that  they  admitted  the 
water,  and  the  ammunition  was  spoiled.  There  were  few  bayonets, 
and  retreat  was  the  only  resource.  All  day  and  part  of  the  next 
night,  the  army,  a  thousand  of  the  men  barefoot,  marched,  under  a 
pelting  rain,  over  muddy  roads,  to  Warwick  furnace,  where  sup- 
plies were  secured. 

Moving  thence  to  defend  the  passage  of  the  Schuylkill,  Wayne 
was  left  to  hang  on  the  enemy's  rear  and  cut  off  the  baggage. 
He  concealed  his  command  deep  in  the  wood,  and  supposed  no 
one  knew  of  his  whereabouts,  while  his  spies  watched  the  British 
camp.  Unfortunately,  he  was  surrounded  by  tories,  who  kept 
Howe  perfectly  informed  of  all  his  movements.  Grey,  known  as 
the  ''  no-flint "  general,  because  he  usually  ordered  his  men  to  re- 
move the  flints  from  their  muskets  when  about  to  make  an  attack, 
prepared  with  a  strong  detachment  to  surprise  him.  On  the  night 
of  September  20th,  Wayne,  expecting  reinforcements,  had  ordered 
his  troops  to  lie  on  their  arms.  But,  in  the  dark  and  rain.  Grey 
stealthily  approached  the  camp,  cutting  down  the  pickets  on  the 
way.  The  alarm  was  given  and  Wayne  drew  up  his  men,  unfor- 
tunately, in  front  of  their  fires.  By  the  light,  the  enemy  saw  dis- 
tinctly where  to  strike.  Suddenly  the  British  dashed  out  of  the 
shade  of  the  forest,  and  the  bayonet  made  short  work.  Three 
hundred  of  the  patriots  were  killed,  wounded,  or  captured,  many 


232 


THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 


rSept.  20-6. 


1777. 


THE  PAOU  MONUMENT. 


being  mercilessly  butchered  after  they  had  surrendered.  The 
British  lost  only  seven  men.  Wayne,  by  his  presence  of  mind, 
saved  the  rest  of  his  detachment  and  rejoined  Washington. 

The  Paoli  massacre,  as  it  was  called,  left  open  the  way  to 
Philadelphia.     By  a  feigned  movement  toward  Reading,  as  if  to 

seize  the  stores  at  that  point, 
Howe  decoyed  Washington  to 
defend  the  upper  fords  of  the 
Schuylkill,  while  he  turned  in  the 
night,  and,  crossing  below,  struck 
boldly  between  Philadelphia  and 
the  American  army.  Howe  en- 
tered the  city  on  the  26th.  The 
army  was  put  into  winter-quar- 
ters there  and  at  Germantown. 
As  the  British  general,  with  his 
brilliant  staff  and  escort,  marched  into  Philadelphia,  followed  by 
a  long  train  of  the  choicest  troops  in  the  army — grenadiers,  light- 
dragoons,  and  artillerymen  with  shining  brass  pieces,  all  in  holiday 
array — they  presented  an  imposing  spectacle.  Conquerors  they 
proclaimed  themselves  in  every  motion ;  stepping  proudly  to  the 
swelling  music  of  God  Save  the  King,  and  "  presenting,"  says 
Irving,  "  with  their  scarlet  uniforms,  their  glittering  arms  and 
flaunting  feathers,  a  striking  contrast  to  the  poor  patriot  troops, 
who  had  recently  passed  through  the  same  streets,  weary  and 
wayworn,  and  happy  if  they  could  cover  their  raggedness  with  a 
brown  linen  hunting-frock,  and  decorate  their  caps  with  a  sprig 
of  evergreen." 

Washington's  campaign  seemed  a  failure.  Really,  however,  it 
was  a  success.  By  delaying  Howe  a  month  in  marching  little 
over  fifty  miles,  he  had  rendered  Saratoga  possible.  Howe  was 
to  have  taken  the  city  and  then  sent  reinforcements  to  the  north. 
By  the  time  he  had  accomplished  his  task,  the  fate  of  Burgoyne 
was  virtually  decided.  Moreover,  the  capture  of  the  national 
capital  proved  not  as  great  a  piece  of  good  fortune  as  was  antici- 
pated. The  dissipation  of  the  winter  sadly  demoralized  the  army, 
so  that  Franklin  wittily  said,  "  Howe  had  not  taken  Philadelphia 
so  much  as  Philadelphia  had  taken  Howe." 

Washington  would  not  let  the  enemies  of  his  country  rest  in 
peace.  A  few  weeks  after  they  had  nestled  down  in  their  snug 
quarters,  he  made  arrangements  for  a  surprise  upon  their  encamp- 


^577*']  BATTLE    OF    GERMANTOWN.  233 

ment  at  Germantown.  Howe,  having  sent  off  a  detachment 
against  the  forts  along  the  Delaware,  and  another  to  convey  some 
provisions,  gave  Washington  just  the  opportunity  he  wanted.  In 
the  evening  of  October  3d,  the  American  army  set  out  from  its 
encampment  at  Skippack  Creek  upon  this  hazardous  expedition. 
The  troops  moved  in  four  columns  by  as  many  roads.  Two  of 
these  were  to  attack  the  enemy  in  front  and  one  on  each  flank. 
They  were  to  time  their  march  of  fourteen  miles  so  as  to  reach 
the  neighborhood  early  enough  to  give  the  men  a  short  rest,  and 
then  at  daybreak  to  fall  simultaneously  upon  the  British  camp. 

The  column,  consisting  of  Sullivan's  and  Wayne's  divisions, 
and  Conway's  brigade,  which  was  to  enter  Germantown  by  the 
Chestnut  Hill  road  and  thence  through  the  principal  street  of  the 
village,  found  the  alarm  had  been  given  by  the  patrols,  and  the 
picket  on  Mount  Airy  was  under  arms.  It  was,  however,  soon 
driven  back  upon  a  battalion  of  light  infantry  and  the  fortieth 
regiment,  under  the  veteran  Colonel  Musgrave.  A  sharp  skir- 
mish followed.  Wayne's  men  were  not  to  be  stopped.  They  re- 
membered the  terrible  night  of  September  20th,  and  their  hearts 
were  steeled  and  their  arms  nerved.  It  was  now  their  turn  to 
use  the  bayonet,  and  the  officers  could  not  hold  them  back,  even 
when  the  time  for  mercy  came.  They  raised  the  terrible  cry  of 
^'Revenge!  Revenge!  Have  at  the  blood  -  hounds !  "  Howe, 
springing  from  his  bed,  and  rushing  in  among  the  fugitives, 
shouted,  "  For  shame  !  I  never  saw  you  retreat  before !  It  is 
only  a  scouting  party  !  "  But  the  rattling  grape-shot  told  a  more 
serious  story,  and  he  rushed  off  to  prepare  for  a  battle.  In  Phila- 
delphia, Cornwallis  heard  the  roar  of  the  guns  and  hastened  re- 
inforcements to  the  rescue.  Musgrave  would  not  flee,  but  threw 
himself  with  six  companies  into  the  large  stone  mansion  of  Justice 
Chew,  barricaded  the  doors  and  windows,  and  opened  fire  upon 
the  pursuing  troops.  Up  to  this  point  all  went  well  for  the 
patriot  cause. 

Now  came  a  turn  in  the  tide.  Instead  of  watching  this  little 
fortress  with  a  detachment,  the  troops  stopped  to  capture  it. 
General  Knox  declaring  that  it  was  against  every  rule  of  war  to 
leave  a  fort  in  the  rear.  So  much  for  red  tape.  Smith,  a  gallant 
Virginian,  advanced,  bearing  a  flag  with  a  summons  to  surrender. 
He  was  fired  upon  and  mortally  wounded.  Cannon  were  brought 
to  bear,  but  proved  too  light.  Attempts  were  made  to  set  fire  to 
the  house,  but  in  vain.     After  a  precious  half-hour  was  wasted, 


234 


THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 


roct.  4-, 

L  1777. 


the  column  moved  on,  leaving  a  regiment  to  guard  the  place. 
During  the  attack,  the  troops  had  become  separated.  A  dense  fog 
made  it  impossible  to  recognize  one  another,  and  parties  fre- 
quently exchanged  shots  before  they  found  out  their  mistake. 
The  two  columns  of  militia  which  were  to  attack  the  flanks  never 
fired  a  shot.  Greene,  who  had  nearly  two-thirds  of  the  army, 
was  to  strike  the  English  right  wing  near  the  market-place,  but 
being  three-quarters  of  an  hour  late,  the  British  were  ready  to 


BATTLE  OF  GERMANTOWN — ATTACK   ON  CHEW  S  HOUSE. 


receive  him,  and  his  attack  proved  a  failure.  Williams's  regi- 
ment of  Virginians  pushed  gallantly  forward,  and  took  prisoners  a 
large  party  of  the  British,  but  raising  a  shout  brought  a  larger 
force  upon  them  through  the  fog,  and  they  were  compelled  to 
surrender.  Woodford's  brigade  opened  a  cannonade  on  Chew's 
house.  Wayne's  men  had  now  pushed  down  the  street ;  but, 
alarmed  by  this  firing  and  supposing  the  British  had  gained  their 
rear  and  cut  them  off  from  camp,  they  became  panic-stricken.  In 
their  retreat  they  came  upon  Stephen's  brigade,  where,  being 
mistaken  for  the  enemy,  they  caused  a  fresh  flurry  among  these 
troops.  Sullivan's  men  had  exhausted  their  ammunition,  when 
they  were  startled  by  the  cry  of  a  light-horseman  that  they  were 
surrounded.  Washington,  who  was  in  the  very  front  of  the  battle 
and  under  the  hottest  fire,  now  gave  the  order  to  retreat.  It  was 
sent  to  every  detachment,  and  the  men  crept  oflf  in  the  fog  as 


Jan.-A^prii,-]  EVENTS    ABOUT    NEW    YORK.  235 

silently  as  they  came.  Pulaski  with  his  cavalry  gallantly  covered 
the  movement.  Not  a  cannon  was  left  behind.  The  British  lost 
about  six  hundred  and  the  patriots  one  thousand,  including 
General  Nash  and  other  valuable  officers. 

The  battle  was  counted  as  an  American  defeat ;  yet  it  greatly 
encouraged  the  patriots.  They  afterward  learned  that  they  had 
come  off  in  the  very  moment  of  victory ;  that  Howe  was  on  the 
point  of  retreating,  and  that  Chester  had  been  already  named  as 
the  place  of  rendezvous.  The  British  officers  could  but  respect  a 
general  who  displayed  so  much  daring,  and  whose  plans  would  have 
certainly  ended  in  the  utter  route  of  their  army,  had  it  not  been 
for  events  over  which  he  could  have  no  control.  This  battle  also 
had  an  excellent  effect  in  Europe.  Count  Vergennes  said  to  the 
American  commissioners  in  Paris  that  "  Nothing  struck  him  so 
much  as  General  Washington's  advancing  and  giving  battle  to 
General  Howe.  To  bring  an  army  raised  within  a  year  to  this, 
promises  everything." 

While  New  Jersey  had  been  the  centre  of  interest,  some  events 
had  occurred  at  the  northward  worth  recording.  When  Wash- 
ington was  hurrying  his  weary  men  from  Princeton,  he  sent  a 
note  to  General  Heath,  then  in  command  of  the  American  troops 
collected  in  the  Highlands,  to  make  a  demonstration  upon  New 
York,  hoping  thereby  to  induce  the  enemy  to  withdraw  troops 
from  Jersey  for  the  defence  of  that  city.  Heath  accordingly  ad- 
vanced to  King's  Bridge,  and  sent  a  bombastic  summons  to  Fort 
Independence,  threatening  to  put  everybody  to  the  sword  who 
did  not  surrender  within  twenty  minutes.  After  a  few  days 
skirmishing,  learning  of  troops  up  the  Sound  which  might  get  in 
his  rear,  he  withdrew,  the  laughing-stock  of  both  armies. 

In  March,  General  Howe,  with  a  fleet  of  ten  sail,  ascended 
the  Hudson  to  Peekskill,  and,  landing,  set  fire  to  a  large  quantity 
of  army  stores  collected  at  that  place.  General  McDougal,  hav- 
ing only  two  hundred  and  fifty  men,  could  muster  little  defence 
against  the  overwhelming  force  of  the  enemy. 

Late  in  April,  Governor  Tryon,  with  about  two  thousand  men, 
left  New  York  to  destroy  the  military  supplies  at  Danbury,  Con- 
necticut. He  landed  at  the  foot  of  Compo  Hill,  near  the  mouth 
of  the  Saugatuck  River.  The  expedition  was  a  surprise  and  met 
with  no  resistance.  At  Bethel,  on  the  way,  an  amusing  incident 
occurred.  One  Luther  Holcomb,  in  order  to  lengthen  the  time 
as  much  as  possible  for  the  benefit  of  the  people  of  Danbury,  rode 


236  THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  ['^'"'17??.*^®' 

to  the  top  of  a  hill,  over  which  the  British  were  about  to  make 
their  way,  and,  waving  his  hat,  turned  to  an  imaginary  host  in  his 
rear,  shouting,  ''  Halt  the  whole  universe  !  break  off  into  king- 
doms ! "  Tryon  immediately  checked  his  army,  arranged  his 
cannon  so  as  to  sweep  the  advancing  enemy,  and  sent  out  recon- 
noitering  parties.  Holcomb,  content  with  having  stopped  the 
whole  army  by  a  bit  of  rodomontade,  put  spurs  to  his  horse  and 
retreated  to  Danbury,  leaving  the  duped  general  to  digest  the 
joke  as  amiably  as  possible.  Guided  by  two  tories  of  Danbury, 
Tryon  reached  that  place  and  destroyed  the  stores.  The  night 
was  passed  in  drinking  and  carousing.  At  dawn,  the  torch  was 
set  to  all  the  houses  except  those  of  the  tories,  and,  amid  the 
flames  of  the  burning  town,  the  troops  started  on  their  return. 

Then  ensued  a  scene  like  that  of  Lexington  and  Concord  two 
years  before.  The  militia  were  fast  gathering  from  the  neighbor- 
ing villages.  Tryon  took  a  new  route,  hoping  to  dodge  his  foes, 
but  they  were  not  to  be  thrown  off".  General  Wooster,  then  a 
veteran  of  near  seventy,  with  a  little  force  of  two  hundred,  hung 
on  the  rear.  While  encouraging  his  men  he  was  mortally 
wounded.  Generals  Arnold  and  Silliman  hurried  to  Ridgefield, 
and,  throwing  up  a  barricade  across  the  road,  with  five  hundred  men 
awaited  the  advance  of  two  thousand.  They  held  their  post  for 
a  quarter  of  an  hour,  when  it  was  outflanked.  A  whole  platoon 
fired  upon  Arnold  at  a  distance  of  thirty  yards.  His  horse  fell, 
and  a  tory  rushed  up,  calling  upon  him  to  surrender.  "  Not  yet," 
exclaimed  Arnold,  as  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  drew  a  pistol,  and  shot 
the  man  dead.  Then,  springing  toward  a  swamp,  under  a  shower 
of  bullets,  he  escaped  unharmed,  and  was  soon  off"  mustering  the 
militia  on  the  road  in  advance  of  the  British. 

Tryon  remained  here  all  night,  and  the  next  day  renewed  his 
perilous  journey.  The  patriots,  from  behind  stone  walls  and 
buildings,  continually  annoyed  the  march.  Lamb,  with  artillery 
and  volunteers  from  New  Haven,  was  at  the  Saugatuck  bridge. 
Tryon  avoided  them  by  fording  the  river  a  mile  above,  and  then, 
putting  his  men  at  full  speed,  ran  for  the  hill  of  Compo. 
Some  of  the  Continentals  pushed  across  the  bridge  and  struck 
them  in  flank;  some  kept  along  the  west  side  and  galled  them 
with  shot  and  ball,  and  some  forded  the  stream  and  fired  on  the 
rear-guard.  Arnold  led  on  the  attack  until  his  horse  was  dis- 
abled, and  seamen  from  the  fleet,  coming  to  the  rescue,  checked 
the  Americans  in  their  eager  pursuit.      Tryon's  wearied  party 


"I?,i?--] 


CAPTURE  OF  GENERAL  PRESCOTT. 


237 


now  embarked,  harassed  to  the  very  last  by  Lamb's  artillery.  In 
this  useless  exploit  the  British  lost  two  hundred  men,  and,  by 
their  savage  ferocity,  kindled  everywhere  a  hatred  that  burned 
long  after  peace  had  come.  Congress  voted  Arnold  a  capari- 
soned horse,  as  a  token  of  approbation  for  his  gallant  conduct. 

The  next  month  Colonel  Meigs  avenged  the  loss  at  Danbury. 
Embarking  in  whale-boats  at  Guilford  about  two  hundred  militia- 


men, he  crossed  the  Sound 
on  the  night  of  May  23d,  and 
reaching  Sag  Harbor  at  day- 
break, burned  there  a  British 
vessel  of  half  a  dozen  guns 
and  several  loaded  transports, 
destroyed  the  stores,  and  cap- 
tured ninety  prisoners,  escap- 
ing without  the  loss  of  a  man. 
For  this  brilliant  feat  Congress 
presented  him  a  sword. 
In  July,  Lieutenant-Colonel  Barton  laid  a  plan  to  capture 
General  Prescott,  in  command  of  the  British  forces  in   Rhode 


CAPTURE   OF  GENERAL   PRESCOTT. 


238  THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  U^rij^: 

Island,  who  was  quartered  at  a  lonely  farm-house  near  Newport. 
Taking  about  forty  militia  in  boats,  Barton  rowed  across  Narra- 
ganset  Bay,  through  the  English  fleet,  dexterously  avoiding  their 
vessels,  and  landed  in  a  cove  close  by  the  general's  quarters. 
Seizing  the  astonished  sentinel  who  guarded  his  door,  they 
entered  the  house,  captured,  and  hurried  off  the  half- dressed 
general.  A  soldier,  escaping  from  the  house,  gave  the  alarm, 
but  the  laughing  guard  assured  him  he  had  seen  a  ghost.  They 
soon,  however,  found  it  to  be  no  jesting  matter,  and  vainly  pur- 
sued the  exultant  Barton ;  for,  while  they  were  searching  the 
sand  on  the  shore  for  the  foot-prints  of  his  party,  he  passed  under 
the  stern  of  the  English  guard-ship  and  escaped  to  Providence. 
"  You  have  made  a  bold  push  to-night,"  said  Prescott  as  they 
landed.  "  We  have  done  as  well  as  we  could,"  replied  Barton. 
He  received  a  sword  from  Congress  and  was  also  promoted  to 
a  colonelcy. 

Unfortunately,  Lee  was  the  only  officer  in  Howe's  possession 
with  the  same  rank  as  Prescott,  and  they  were  exchanged.  It 
proved  no  gain  to  the  patriot  cause,  although  at  that  time  every- 
body rejoiced  that  by  this  daring  feat  they  had  again  secured  the 
*'  palladium  of  their  liberties." 

While  Burgoyne  was  making  his  desperate  adventure  at  the 
north,  Clinton  attempted  a  diversion  from  the  south,  as  was  ex- 
pected at  the  beginning  of  the  campaign.  Putnam,  commanding 
on  the  Hudson,  in  his  easy  good-nature  had  allowed  his  troops  to 
become  scattered,  so  that  he  had  only  two  thousand  men  for  the 
defence  of  the  Highlands.  Clinton  made  a  feint  on  Fishkill, 
which  led  Putnam  off  on  a  wild-goose  chase.  George  Clinton, 
governor  of  New  York,  however,  saw  the  real  point  of  danger, 
and  hastened,  with  his  brother  and  all  the  troops  he  could  gather, 
to  Forts  Clinton  and  Montgomery.  October  6th,  the  British 
landed  and  carried  both  forts  by  storm.  The  garrison  made  a 
desperate  resistance,  but,  being  overpowered  by  superior  num- 
bers, fled,  and,  favored  by  the  gathering  darkness,  mostly  escaped 
over  the  hills.  The  heavy  iron  chain  and  boom  which  had  been 
put  across  the  river  to  prevent  the  ascent  of  the  British  fleet  was 
now  useless.  Two  American  frigates,  sent  down  for  the  defence 
of  the  obstructions,  were  becalmed,  and  were  fired  to  prevent 
their  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  Fort  Constitution 
being  abandoned,  the  Hudson  was  opened  to  Albany.  Clinton, 
however,  took  no  advantage  of  the  opportunity,  but  returned  to 


^mi?'!  BURNING    OF    KINGSTON,    NEW    YORK.  239 

New  York,  leaving  Burgoyne  to  his  fate.  Vaughan  remained 
behind  and  led  a  marauding  party  as  far  up  as  Kingston  (October 
15th),  burning  and  plundering  that  town  and  the  houses  of 
patriots  along  the  river.  If  Clinton  had  gone  on  to  Albany, 
Gates,  then  on  the  eve  of  success,  would  have  been  forced  to 
retreat  into  New  England,  and  Burgoyne's  way  would  have  been 
clear.  As  it  was,  this  wanton,  useless  expedition  only  excited 
wide-spread  indignation. 

A  very  amusing  incident  is  told  which  occurred  during  this 
sally.  Some  Dutchmen  were  at  work  near  a  swampy  flat, 
when  suddenly  the  red-coats  came  in  view.  It  was  low  water, 
and  they  fled  across  the  flats  toward  Ponkhocken,  as  fast  as  their 
legs  could  carry  them,  not  daring  to  look  behind,  lest,  like  Lot's 
wife,  they  might  be  detained.  The  summer  haymakers  had  left  a 
rake  on  the  marsh  meadow,  and  upon  this  one  of  the  fugitives 
trod,  the  handle  striking  him  in  the  back.  Not  doubting  that  a 
*^  Britisher "  was  close  upon  his  heels,  he  stopped  short,  and, 
throwing  up  his  hands  imploringly,  exclaimed,  *'  O,  mein  Cot ! 
mein  Cot !     I  kivs  up.     Hoorah  for  King  Shorge  !  " 

Meantime,  Governor  Clinton  had  been  trying  to  raise  a  force 
for  the  defence  of  Kingston.  While  he  was  encamped  near  New 
Windsor,  collecting  the  scattered  troops,  one  day  about  noon  a 
horseman  galloped  in  hot  haste  up  to  the  sentinel  on  guard,  and, 
in  answer  to  his  challenge,  said,  "  I  am  a  friend  and  wish  to  see 
General  Clinton."  He  was  admitted  to  the  general's  presence, 
but  on  entering  betrayed  an  involuntary  surprise,  and  muttering, 
*'  I  am  lost !  "  was  seen  to  hastily  put  something  into  his  mouth 
and  swallow  it.  Suspicion  being  thus  excited,  he  was  arrested 
and  given  a  heavy  dose  of  tartar  emetic.  This  brought  to  light  a 
silver  bullet,  which,  however,  the  prisoner  succeeded  in  again 
swallowing.  He  refused  to  repeat  the  dose,  but  was  assured 
that  resistance  was  useless,  as,  in  case  he  persisted,  he  would 
be  immediately  hanged  and  a  post-mortem  examination  effected. 
Having  yielded,  the  bullet  was  at  length  secured.  It  was  found 
to  be  hollow,  and  secreted  within  it  was  the  following  note, 
written  two  days  before : 

''Fort  Montgomery,  Oa.  8,  1777. 

"Nous  y  voici,  and  nothing  now  between  us  and  Gates.  I 
sincerely  hope  this  little  success  of  ours  may  facilitate  your 
operations.     In  answer  to  your  letter  of  the  28th  of  September 


240 


THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 


roct.  12, 


1777. 


by  C.  C,  I  shall  only  say,  I  cannot  presume  to  order  or  even 
advise,  for  reasons  obvious.     I  heartily  wish  you  success. 

"  Faithfully  yours,  ''  H.  Clinton. 

"  General  Burgoyne'' 

This  established  the  guilt  of  the  prisoner.  The  secret  mes- 
senger of  Sir  Henry  Clinton  had  supposed  the  Americans  to  be 
utterly  routed  in  the  Highlands ; 
and  the  persistent  contempt  of 
the  British,  who  never  granted 
the  honor  of  a  military  title  to 
any  American  officer — addressing 
the  commander-in-chief  himself 
only  as  Mr.  Washington — so  mis- 
led him  that  when  he  heard  of  his 
proximity  to  General  Clinton,  he 
supposed  himself  of  course  among 
his  own  friends.  He  was  tried, 
condemned,  and  hanged  as  a  spy 
while  the  flames  of  burning  Eso- 
pus,  fired  by  Vaughan's  maraud- 


EXECUTION   OF  A  SPY  AT   KINGSTON,   NEW  YORK, 


ing  party,  streamed  up  the  distant  sky, 
in  full  sight  of  the  apple-tree  on  which 
he  ignominiously  swung. 

In  order  to  prevent  the  English  fleet 
from  ascending  the  Delaware,  that  river  had  been  carefully  forti- 
fied. A  few  miles  below  Philadelphia,  a  strong  redoubt,  called 
Fort  Mifflin,  had  been  erected,  and  on  the  New  Jersey  shore,  at  Red 
Bank,  another,  named  Fort  Mercer.  The  principal  channel,  lying 
between  these  fortifications,  had  been  obstructed  by  strong  chevaux 


Ofy^??']  ATTACK  ON  FORT  MERCER.  24I 

de  frise,  or  frames  made  of  heavy  timbers,  armed  with  spikes  and 
filled  with  stone,  so  as  to  keep  them  in  their  place.  Under  the 
protection  of  the  guns  were  moored  floating  batteries,  galleys, 
and  fire-ships.  Further  down  the  river,  at  Billingsport,  was 
another  fort  with  similar  obstructions ;  these,  however,  were 
captured  by  an  English  detachment  soon  after  the  battle  of 
Brandy  wine,  and,  by  the  middle  of  October,  several  vessels  broke 
a  passage  through  the  obstacles  in  the  channel.  The  upper  forts 
remained,  and  it  was  determined  to  defend  them  to  the  last. 
Colonel  Greene  was  in  command  at  Fort  Mercer,  with  four 
hundred  Rhode  Island  Continentals,  having  Captain  Mauduit 
Duplessis,  a  brave  French  engineer  officer,  to  direct  the  artillery. 
Fort  Mifflin  was  garrisoned  by  Lieutenant-Colonel  Smith,  and 
about  the  same  number  of  Maryland  troops  of  the  line.  The 
fleet  was  under  Commodore  Hazlewood.  Howe  saw  that  he 
must  open  up  communications  with  his  ships,  or  his  position  in 
Philadelphia  would  become  untenable  from  the  difficulty  of  secur- 
ing supplies. 

On  the  morning  of  the  22d  of  October,  the  little  garrison  at 
Fort  Mercer  was  startled  by  the  appearance  on  the  edge  of  the 
woods,  within  cannon-shot,  of  a  body  of  Hessians,  twelve  hun- 
dred strong,  under  Count  Donop.  Soon  an  officer  with  a  flag  and 
a  drummer  approached  and  pompously  demanded  a  surrender — 
"  The  king  of  England  orders  his  rebellious  subjects  to  lay  down 
their  arms,  and  they  are  warned  that  if  they  stand  the  battle  no 
quarter  will  be  given."  Greene  at  once  replied,  "  We  ask  no  quar- 
ter, nor  will  we  give  any."  Hurried  preparations  were  made  for 
defence.  About  five  o'clock  the  enemy  advanced  to  the  assault  in 
columns,  headed  by  a  captain,  with  the  carpenters  and  their  axes, 
and  a  hundred  men  carrying  fascines  for  filling  the  ditches.  The 
outworks  were  unfinished,  and  the  garrison  made  little  attempt  to 
defend  them.  The  Hessians,  elated  by  the  easy  victory,  entered 
at  two  points,  and  rushed  forward  with  the  drum  ''beating  a 
lively  march."  Not  a  man  was  to  be  seen,  and  on  the  north  side 
some  even  reached  the  earthworks,  when  a  terrible  musketry  fire 
burst  forth.  At  the  same  time  their  flanks  were  raked  with 
grape-shot  from  a  battery  in  the  angle  of  the  embankment,  and 
chain-shot  from  a  couple  of  galleys  concealed  behind  the  bushes 
on  the  bank.  The  Hessians,  however,  pressed  ahead.  Under 
Donop  at  the  south  side  they  broke  through  the  abattis,  filled  the 
ditch,  and  began  to  ascend  the  rampart.  But  those  who  reached 
16 


242  THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  l^ihl?' 

the  top  were  struck  down  by  spear  and  bayonet.  Donop  fell 
mortally  wounded.  The  rest  were  forced  to  fall  back  to  the  pro- 
tection of  the  forest.  In  this  brief  hour  of  slaughter,  the  British 
lost  four  hundred  men  and  the  Americans  only  thirty-eight. 

While  Mauduit  was  inspecting  the  works  after  the  assault 
was  repulsed,  he  heard  some  one  calling  out,  ''  Whoever  you  are, 
draw  me  hence."  It  proved  to  be  Count  Donop,  who,  mortally 
wounded,  was  wedged  in  among  the  bodies  of  the  slain.  He  lived 
three  days  afterward,  receiving  every  possible  comfort  from  Mau- 
duit, who  personally  attended  him  until  his  death.  "It  is  finish- 
ing a  noble  career  early,"  he  said  to  his  kind  companion.  "  I  die 
the  victim  of  my  ambition  and  of  the  avarice  of  my  king ;  but, 
dying  in  the  arms  of  honor,  I  have  no  regrets."  Thus  perished 
this  brave  man,  at  the  age  of  thirty-seven.  He  was  buried  near 
the  fort  he  vainly  sought  to  capture.  A  rough  boulder  marks  the 
spot.  His  bones  have  been  carried  off  by  relic-hunters,  and  his 
skull  is  said  to  be  in  the  hands  of  a  New  Jersey  physician. 

The  British  fleet  ascended  the  river  to  take  part  in  the  contest. 
The  next  day  they  opened  a  heavy  cannonade  on  Fort  Mifflin. 
The  reply  from  fort  and  fleet  was  too  severe,  and  they  were 
forced  to  drop  down  the  stream.  Two  frigates,  the  Augusta  and 
the  Merlin,  grounded.  The  former  was  blown  up  by  red-hot 
shot  from  the  American  guns,  several  of  her  officers  and  crew 
perishing  in  the  explosion ;  the  latter  was  set  on  fire  and  aban- 
doned by  her  crew. 

During  the  attack,  one  old  lady  remained  in  her  house  on 
the  bank  of  the  river,  answering  urgent  entreaties  to  flee  with 
■"'  God's  arm  is  strong,  and  will  protect  me ;  I  may  do  good  by 
staying."  She  was  left  to  her  fate,  and  while  the  balls  whizzed 
and  rattled,  battering  against  the  brick  walls  of  her  dwelling,  like 
hailstones  in  a  tempest,  the  steady  hum  of  her  spinning-wheel  was 
undisturbed  and  unbroken.  At  length  a  twelve-pounder  came 
booming  through  the  side  of  the  house,  sundering  partitions  with 
a  terrific  crash,  and  landing  in  a  wall  near  the  plucky  spinner. 
Taking  her  wheel,  she  now  retreated  to  the  cellar,  where  she  con- 
tinued her  industry  till  the  battle  was  over.  She  then  put  her 
spinning  aside,  and  devoted  herself  to  the  suffering  wounded  who 
were  brought  into  her  house.  She  cared  for  all  alike,  but  admin- 
istered a  stirring  rebuke  to  the  mercenary  Hessians,  while,  at  the 
same  time,  she  tenderly  dressed  their  wounds.  The  name  of  this 
brave  woman  was  Anna  Whitall,  a  Quakeress. 


Nov.y 0^-20, j  CAPTURE    OF    MERCER    AND    RED    BANK.  243 

The  British  now  adopted  surer  measures  for  the  reduction  of 
the  forts.  Heavy  works  were  erected  on  the  Pennsylvania  shore 
and  on  Province  Island  at  a  distance  of  five  hundred  yards.  In  all, 
fourteen  redoubts  manned  with  heavy  artillery,  a  floating  bat- 
tery of  twenty-two  guns  at  forty  yards,  and  a  fleet  carrying  three 
hundred  and  thirty -six  guns,  were  brought  to  bear  upon  this 
devoted  garrison.  From  the  loth  to  the  15th,  they  kept  up  an 
unbroken  rain  of  bomb  and  shot.  Smith  was  wounded  and  left 
the  fort ;  the  next  in  rank  being  also  disabled.  Major  Thayer  of 
Rhode  Island  volunteered  for  the  command.  On  the  last  day, 
other  vessels  worked  up  into  the  narrow  channel  next  the  shore, 
where  they  could  throw  in  hand-grenades.  About  ten  o'clock, 
a  bugle-note  gave  the  signal,  and  the  fire  was  renewed  with 
redoubled  energy.  The  only  two  serviceable  guns  were  dis- 
mounted. The  yard-arms  of  the  ships  overlooked  the  earth- 
works, so  that  sharp-shooters  perched  in  the  tops  picked  off"  every 
man  who  showed  himself  upon  the  platforms.  In  the  night,  the 
remainder  of  the  garrison,  nearly  two  hundred  and  fifty  having 
been  killed  or  wounded,  passed  over  to  Red  Bank.  When  the 
British  entered  the  deserted  works  the  next  morning,  they  found 
nearly  every  cannon  stained  with  the  blood  of  its  gallant  de- 
fenders. 

Howe,  having  been  heavily  reinforced  from  New  York,  sent 
Cornwallis  with  a  superior  body  of  troops  along  the  left  shore  of 
the  Delaware.  Red  Bank  was  evacuated,  part  of  the  American 
vessels  escaping  during  a  dark  night  up  to  Burlington,  and  the 
rest  being  destroyed.  The  British  leveled  the  fortifications, 
removed  a  part  of  the  obstructions,  and  soon  had  complete  con- 
trol of  the  river.  Philadelphia  was  fortified,  and  Howe's  position 
became  secure. 

Winter  had  come,  but  Washington  was  unwilling  to  send  his 
men  to  York,  Lancaster,  or  Carlisle,  the  nearest  towns  where 
they  could  be  comfortably  housed,  as  that  would  leave  a  large 
and  fertile  country  open  to  the  incursions  of  the  enemy.  So  he 
still  kept  his  famishing  and  suffering  army  in  the  field.  On  the 
night  of  December  4th,  Howe  quietly  left  Philadelphia  with  four- 
teen thousand  men,  hoping  to  surprise  Washington  and  "drive 
the  Federal  army  over  the  Blue  Mountains."  To  his  astonish- 
ment, he  found  Washington  occupying  a  strong  position  in 
wooded  heights  at  Whitemarsh,  all  ready  to  receive  him.  For 
several  days  he  skirmished  about,  trying  to  draw  Washington 


244  THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  V^^mt.^ 

out  of  his  camp,  but  finding  this  impossible,  and  not  daring  to 
attack  him  in  his  chosen  position,  during  the  night  of  the  8th  he 
decamped  and  hastened  back  to  Philadelphia,  making  such  good 
time  that  the  next  day  none  but  the  American  light-horse  could 
overtake  his  rear-guard. 

The  secret  of  his  failure  may  be  easily  told.  The  British 
adjutant-general  had  fixed  upon  a  back-chamber  in  the  house  of 
William  and  Lydia  Darrah,  as  a  convenient  place  for  private  con- 
ference ;  and  here  he  often  met  one  or  more  officers  in  close 
consultation.  One  day  he  requested  Lydia  to  prepare  the  room 
with  fire  and  candles,  as  he  should  need  it  that  evening,  adding 
in  an  impressive  voice,  **  Be  sure  that  your  family  are  all  in  bed  at 
an  early  hour."  His  manner  excited  her  curiosity,  and  after  they 
had  entered  and  locked  themselves  in  their  room,  she  quietly 
arose,  and  in  her  stocking-feet  stole  to  the  door.  Putting  her  ear 
to  the  keyhole,  she  distinctly  heard  an  order  read  for  an  attack  on 
Washington's  troops  the  next  night.  Lydia  was  a  true  patriot^ 
and  this  order  banished  sleep  from  her  eyes.  In  the  early  dawn 
she  awoke  her  husband  and  informed  him  that  she  was  obliged  to 
go  to  Frankford  that  morning  for  flour.  As  the  Philadelphians 
were  chiefly  dependent  on  the  Frankford  mills,  this  was  a  frequent 
occurrence,  and  a  passport  was  readily  furnished  by  General 
Howe,  at  whose  headquarters  she  stopped  on  her  way  out  of  the 
city.  She  walked  the  five  miles  over  the  frozen  snow  that  cold 
December  morning  at  her  utmost  speed,  and,  halting  at  the  mill 
only  long  enough  to  leave  her  bag,  pressed  rapidly  on  toward 
the  American  lines.  Meeting  Lieutenant-Colonel  Craig,  whom 
Washington  had  sent  out  as  a  scout,  she  relieved  her  mind  of  its 
burden.  Hastening  back  to  the  mill,  she  shouldered  her  bag  of 
flour  and  returned  home  without  exciting  suspicion.  On  the 
return  of  the  discomfited  troops,  the  adjutant-general  called  her 
to  his  room  and  proceeded  to  question  her.  "  Lydia,  were  any 
of  your  family  up  on  the  night  I  received  company  here  ?  '* 
"  No,"  she  promptly  replied,  ''  they  all  retired  at  eight  o'clock," 
which  was  true.  ''  It  is  very  strange,"  he  pursued  ;  ''  you,  I 
know,  were  asleep,  for  I  knocked  at  your  door  three  times  before 
you  heard  me  when  we  left  the  house."  This  also  was  true,  in  so 
far  as  his  knocking  was  concerned  ;  for  the  subtle  Lydia  had  too 
much  at  stake  to  appear  awake  at  that  moment,  and  had  feigned 
the  heaviest  of  slumber.  "  It  is  certain  we  were  betrayed,  yet 
how   I   cannot  imagine,"  he  concluded,  *'  unless  the  walls  of  the 


*^*f77*7.^'']  THE    CAMP    AT    VALLEY    FORGE.  245 

house  tell  tales."  His  meek  listener  left  him  to  his  own  conjec- 
tures, and  respectfully  retired. 

Such  was  the  condition  of  the  soldiers  and  the  severity  of  the 
season,  that  it  became  absolutely  necessary  to  provide  them  with 
some  shelter.  Washington,  after  careful  deliberation,  selected 
Valley  Forge,  a  secluded  spot  about  twenty  miles  from  Phila- 
delphia. Here  he  would  be  able  to  keep  watch  of  the  enemy  and 
protect  the  people  from  incursions.  December  nth,  the  army  set 
out  on  its  painful  march  of  eight  days.  Reaching  their  destination, 
the  men  had  yet  to  build  their  own  houses.  The  i8th  was  ob- 
served as  a  "  day  of  thanksgiving  and  praise,"  says  the  record.  It 
must  have  been  truly  a  patient  heart  that,  in  that  extremity,  could 
have  felt  any  response  to  such  a  recommendation  of  Congress. 

The  next  day,  the  troops  began  to  cut  down  trees  and  erect 
log-houses  over  the  sloping  hill-sides.  The  huts  were  each  four- 
teen feet  by  sixteen ;  the  interstices  were  filled  with  clay ;  the  fire- 
places were  plastered  with  the  same  material ;  and  the  roofs  were 
covered  with  split  planks,  or  thatched  with  boughs.  These  rude 
dwellings  were  arranged  in  regular  streets,  and  within  the  Christ- 
mas holidays  the  Valley  took  on  quite  the  look  of  a  military  en- 
campment. 

While  this  work  was  going  briskly  forward,  Washington  re- 
ceived news  that  the  enemy  was  making  a  sortie  toward  Chester. 
On  orders  being  issued  for  the  troops  to  be  ready  to  march,  the 
generals  replied,  "  Fighting  is  preferable  to  starving."  The  men, 
already  without  bread  for  three  and  meat  for  two  days,  had  muti- 
nied. In  this  emergency,  with  his  shivering,  famishing  men  around 
him,  Washington  learned  that  the  Legislature  of  Pennsylvania  had 
remonstrated  against  his  going  into  winter-quarters,  instead  of 
keeping  the  field.  It  manifested  a  cruel  indifference,  and  he  in- 
dignantly wrote  to  the  president  of  Congress :  "  Gentlemen  repro- 
bate the  going  into  winter-quarters  as  much  as  if  they  thought  the 
soldiers  were  made  of  stocks  or  stones,  and  equally  insensible  of 
cold  and  hunger.  *  *  *  I  can  assure  these  gentlemen,  that  it 
is  a  much  easier,  less  distressing  thing,  to  draw  remonstrances  in 
a  comfortable  room,  by  a  good  fireside,  than  to  occupy  a  bleak 
hill,  and  sleep  under  frost  and  snow,  without  clothes  or  blankets. 
However,  although  they  seem  to  have  little  feeling  for  the  naked 
and  distressed  soldiers,  I  feel  abundantly  for  them,  and  from  my 
soul  I  pity  their  distresses,  which  it  is  neither  in  my  power  to 
relieve  nor  prevent." 


246 


THIRD    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 


roec, 
L1777. 


This  spirited  rebuke  did  not  still  the  clamor,  and  Washing- 
ton was  even  advised  to  risk  all  and  dash  his  little  army  to 
pieces  by  hurling  it  against  the  strong  entrenchments  of  the 
English  at  Philadelphia,  rather  than  endure  longer  the  reproach 
of  inactivity. 


Washington's  headquarters  at  valley  forge. 


CHAPTER    V. 

FOUfkTH  YEA(k  OF  THE  (REVOLUTIOJ^—1778. 

HE  winter  at  Valley  Forge  was,  in- 
deed, the  darkest  period  of  all 
that  **  time  which  tried  men's 
souls."  The  Continental  paper- 
money  was  so  depreciated  in 
value  that  an  officer's  pay  would 
not  keep  him  in  clothes.  Many, 
having  spent  their  entire  for- 
tunes in  the  war,  were  now  com- 
pelled to  resign,  in  order  to  get  a 
living.  The  men  were  encamped 
in  cold,  comfortless  huts,  with 
little  food  or  clothing.  Fre- 
quently there  was  only  one  suit  of  clothes  for  two  soldiers,  which 
they  would  take  turns  in  wearing.  Barefooted,  they  left  on  the 
frozen  ground  their  tracks  in  blood.  Few  had  blankets.  Num- 
bers were  compelled  to  sit  by  their  fires  all  night.  Their  fuel 
they  were  compelled  to  carry  on  their  backs  from  the  woods 
where  they  cut  it.  Straw  could  not  be  obtained.  Soldiers  who 
were  enfeebled  by  hunger  and  benumbed  by  cold,  slept  on  the 
bare  earth,  and  sickness  followed  such  exposure.  Within  three 
weeks,  two  thousand  men  were  rendered  unfit  for  duty.  With  no 
change  of  clothing,  no  suitable  food,  and  no  medicines,  death  was 
the  only  relief.  A  distinguished  foreign  officer  has  related  that 
at  this  time  he  was  "  walking  one  day  with  General  Washington 
among  the  huts,  when  he  heard  many  voices  echoing  through  the 
open  crevices  between  the  logs,  'No  pay,  no  clothes,  no  provisions, 
no  rum  ! '  And  when  a  miserable  wretch  was  seen  flitting  from 
one  hut  to  another,  his  nakedness  was  only  covered  by  a  dirty 
blanket." 


248  FOURTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  \_fj^^^ 

Amid  this  terrible  suffering,  the  fires  of  patriotism  burned 
brightly.  Every  effort  was  made  to  induce  the  suffering  soldiers 
to  desert  and  join  the  British  army ;  but  few,  however,  proved 
false,  and  these  were  mainly  foreigners.  Washington  felt  that 
his  cause  was  just,  and  inspired  all  around  him  with  his  sublime 
faith.  One  day  during  the  winter,  while  Isaac  Potts,  at  whose 
house  Washington  was  quartered,  was  on  his  way  up  the  creek, 
he  heard  a  voice  of  prayer  in  the  thicket  near  by.  Softly  follow- 
ing its  direction,  he  soon  discovered  the  general  upon  his  knees, 
his  cheek  wet  with  tears.  Narrating  this  incident  to  his  wife,  he 
added  with  deep  emotion,  ^'  If  there  is  any  one  to  whom  the  Lord 
will  listen,  it  is  George  Washington,  and  under  such  a  com- 
mander our  independence  is  certain." 

In  January,  a  raft  made  of  kegs  full  of  powder,  and  fitted  with 
machinery  to  explode  them  upon  striking  any  object,  was  floated 
down  the  river.  One  of  the  kegs  burst  opposite  Philadelphia. 
The  fleet  which  had  been  lying  in  the  stream  happened  to  have 
been  drawn  into  the  harbor  that  night,  and  so  escaped  injury. 
Great  alarm  was  caused  in  the  city  by  this  singular  device  of  the 
Yankees.  The  cannon  were  trained  upon  every  strange  object 
floating  on  the  water,  and  for  twenty-four  hours  thereafter  no 
innocent  chip  even  could  get  by  without  a  shot.  Judge  Hopkin- 
son  wrote  the  following  comic  ballad  upon  the  circumstance.  It 
^as  set  to  the  tune  of  Yankee  Doodle  : 

THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  KEGS. 

"  Gallants  attend,  and  hear  a  friend 
Trill  forth  harmonious  ditty  ; 
Strange  things  I'll  tell,  which  late  befell 
In  Philadelphia  city. 

**  'Twas  early  day,  as  poets  say, 
Just  when  the  sun  was  rising, 
A  soldier  stood  on  log  of  wood, 
And  saw  a  thing  surprising. 

•*  As  in  amaze  he  stood  to  gaze, 
(The  truth  can't  be  denied,  sir), 
He  spied  a  score  of  kegs,  or  more, 
Come  floating  down  the  tide,  sir. 

"  A  sailor,  too,  in  jerkin  blue, 

The  strange  appearance  viewing, 
First  wiped  his  eyes,  in  great  surprise, 
Then  said,  '  Some  mischiefs  brewing. 


t778'J  "  BATTLE    OF    THE    KEGS."  ^49 


"  '  These  kegs,  I'm  told,  the  rebels  hold. 
Packed  up  like  pickled  herring  ; 
And  they've  come  down  t'attack  the  town 
In  this  new  way  of  ferry'ng.' 

"  The  soldier  flew,  the  sailor  too, 
And,  scared  almost  to  death,  sir, 
Wore  out  their  shoes  to  spread  the  news. 
And  ran  till  out  of  breath,  sir. 

**  Now  up  and  down,  throughout  the  town, 
Most  frantic  scenes  were  acted. 
And  some  ran  here,  and  others  there. 
Like  men  almost  distracted. 


**  Now,  in  a  fright,  Howe  starts  upright, 
Awaked  by  such  a  clatter  ; 
He  rubs  both  eyes,  and  boldly  cries, 
•  For  God's  sake,  what's  the  matter?* 

•*  At  his  bedside,  he  then  espied 
Sir  Erskine,  at  command,  sir  ; 
Upon  one  foot  he  had  one  boot, 
And  t'other  in  his  hand,  sir. 

"  '  Arise  !  arise  ! '  Sir  Erskine  cries  ; 
'  The  rebels — more's  the  pity — 
Without  a  boat,  are  all  afloat. 
And  ranged  before  the  city. 

•  *  The  motley  crew,  in  vessels  new, 
With  Satan  for  their  guide,  sir, 
Pack'd  up  in  bags,  or  wooden  kegs, 
Came  driving  down  the  tide,  sir, 

•*  *  Therefore  prepare  for  bloody  war ; 
These  kegs  must  all  be  routed  ; 
Or  surely  we  despised  shall  be, 
And  British  courage  doubted.* 

**  The  royal  band  now  ready  stand. 
All  ranged  in  dread  array,  sir, 
With  stomach  stout  to  see  it  out, 
And  make  a  bloody  day,  sir. 

•*  The  cannons  roar  from  shore  to  shore, 
The  small-arms  loud  did  rattle  ; 
Since  war  began,  I'm  sure  no  man 
E'er  saw  so  strange  a  battle. 


7KO  FOURTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  L^ml^' 

"  The  kegs,  'tis  said,  though  strongly  made 
Of  rebel  staves  and  hoops,  sir, 
Could  not  oppose  their  powerful  foes. 
The  conq'ring  British  troops,  sir. 

"  From  morn  to  night  these  men  of  might 
Display'd  amazing  courage, 
And  when  the  sun  was  fairly  down. 
Retired  to  sup  their  porridge. 

**  A  hundred  men,  with  each  a  pen, 
Or  more,  upon  my  word,  sir, 
It  is  most  true,  would  be  too  few, 
Their  valor  to  record,  sir. 

"  Such  feats  did  they  perform  that  day 
Against  those  wicked  kegs,  sir, 
That,  years  to  come,  if  they  get  home, 
They'll  make  their  boasts  and  brags,  sir." 

Captain  Henry  Lee,  afterward  famous  as  *'  Light-horse  Harry," 
first  came  into  notice  for  his  daring  exploits  during  the  advance 
of  the  British  toward  Philadelphia.  He  was  the  son  of  the  "  Low- 
land beauty  "  who,  in  her  early  days,  touched  Washington's  heart, 
though  she  gave  her  own  to  another.  The  commander-in-chief 
had  a  peculiar  liking  for  this  dashing  young  officer,  and  in  the  fall 
of  1779  ordered  all  Lee's  letters  to  be  marked  "  private,"  that  they 
might  come  directly  into  his  hands.  On  the  night  of  January 
2oth,  an  attempt  was  made  to  surprise  the  captain  in  his  quar- 
ters about  six  miles  from  Valley  Forge.  At  daylight,  he  was 
awakened  to  find  his  house  surrounded  by  two  hundred  British 
cavalry.  Securing  the  doors,  and  placing  his  companions,  seven 
in  all,  each  at  a  window,  he  maintained  such  a  steady  fire  that,, 
after  a  contest  of  half  an  hour,  the  enemy  withdrew.  They  then 
tried  to  capture  his  horses  from  the  barn  adjoining.  Lee  there- 
upon dashed  out  with  his  men,  exclaiming,  "  Fire  away,  here 
comes  our  infantry  ;  we  shall  have  them  all !  "  The  British,  sup- 
posing help  was  at  hand,  fled  precipitately.  Lee's  men,  quickly 
mounting  their  horses,  pursued  their  late  besiegers  for  a  long 
distance.  On  the  recommendation  of  Washington,  the  gallant 
captain  received  the  rank  of  major,  and  was  authorized  to  raise 
an  independent  partisan  corps,  afterward  known  through  the  war 
as  "  Lee's  Legion." 

The  story  of  the  Revolution  is  incomplete  unless  a  peep  be 
taken  behind  the  scenes,  and   some  of  the  secret  but  unparal- 


Jan.,"! 
I778J 


DEMORALIZATION    OF    THE    PEOPLE. 


251 


leled  difficulties  experienced  by  the  true  heroes  of  the  day  be 
thoroughly  understood.  Valley  Forge  was  only  a  part  of  the 
dark  back-ground  of  the  long  struggle  for  Independence.  It  is  a 
common  idea  that  ours  is  a  degenerate  age ;  that  1776  was  a  time 
of  honor  and  honesty,  of  sincerity  and  devotion.  To  think  this, 
is  to  undervalue  the  achievements  of  our  Revolutionary  sires,  as 
well  as  to  erect  a  false 
standard  with  which  to 
compare  the  present. 
Whoever  supposes  that 


IN  CAMP  AT  VALLEY  FORGE. 


the    spirit    of    union 
and  of  sacrifice   was 
unanimous     among     even 
the  great  actors  in  the  drama 
of  Independence,  utterly  fails 
to  comprehend   the   greatest 
obstacles    to    the    successful 
prosecution  of  the  war,  and  the  ultimate  Union  of  the  States. 

The  war,  as  it  progressed,  seemed  to  demoralize  all  classes  in 
society.  The  pulpit,  the  press,  and  good  men,  sought  in  vain  to 
stem  the  tide  of  evil.  While  the  army  was  suffering  so  much  in 
the  cause  of  liberty,  contractors  became  rich,  and  monopolists 
hoarded  the  very  necessaries  of  life.  Trade  with  the  royal  troops 
was  opened  on  every  side.     Though  the  magazines  at  Valley  Forge 


252  FOURTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [1778. 

were  empty,  and  meat  was  often  not  seen  for  a  week  at  a  time, 
the  markets  in  Philadelphia  were  abundantly  supplied.  Washing- 
ton, having  received  authority  from  Congress  to  seize  provisions 
for  the  troops  and  issue  scrip  therefor,  ordered  the  farmers  within 
a  radius  of  seventy  miles  to  thresh  out  one-half  of  their  grain  by 
February  ist,  and  the  rest  by  March  ist,  under  penalty  of  having 
it  all  seized  as  straw.  The  inhabitants  refused,  and,  guns  in  hand, 
stood  guard  over  their  stacks  and  cattle,  even  burning  what  they 
could  not  sell,  to  prevent  its  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  famish- 
ing patriot  army.  Men  abandoned  useful  occupations  to  plunge 
into  stock -jobbing,  gambling,  and  other  disreputable  pursuits; 
counterfeited  the  public  securities ;  forged  official  signatures ;  re- 
fused to  pay  their  honest  debts,  except  in  depreciated  paper- 
money  ;  and  fattened  upon  the  common  necessities.  Love  of 
country  was  declared  to  be  an  illusion.  There  were  times  when 
private  or  public  faith  appeared  to  be  the  exception.  Washing- 
ton, alarmed  at  this  enemy  in  the  rear  —  this  new  peril  which 
threatened  the  country  —  wrote  that  ''idleness,  dissipation  and 
extravagance  seem  to  have  laid  fast  hold  of  most;  speculation, 
peculation,  and  an  insatiate  thirst  for  riches  have  got  the  better 
of  every  other  consideration  and  almost  every  order  of  men." 

At  first  the  masses  were  enthusiastic ;  but  as  the  contest  wore 
on,  the  slow  friction  of  the  struggle  became  irksome,  and,  in  many 
quarters,  apathy  was  almost  universal.  During  the  flight  across 
New  Jersey,  not  one  hundred  volunteers  from  that  State  rallied 
under  the  flag  of  their  only  defender.  The  Maryland  militia,  sent 
to  Washington's  aid  just  before  the  battle  of  Germantown,  lost 
half  its  number  by  desertion.  When  Pennsylvania  was  overrun 
by  the  British,  and  the  Federal  capital  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy, 
there  were  only  twelve  hundred  Pennsylvania  militia  in  the 
army.  Recruiting  was  slow ;  very  few  enlistments  were  secured 
for  three  years,  or  during  the  war.  Sabine  says  "  that  the  price 
paid  for  a  single  recruit  was  sometimes  as  high  as  one  thousand 
dollars,  besides  the  bounty  offered  by  Congress  ;  and  that  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  dollars  in  specie  was  given  for  only  five  months 
service."  The  soldier  might  be  pardoned  for  deserting  the  cause 
of  a  country  that  would  neither  pay  him  nor  feed  him  ;  but  what 
should  be  thought  of  a  people  that,  before  the  war,  could  import 
one  and  a  half  million  dollars  worth  of  tea  annually,  besides 
other  luxuries,  and  yet  allow  the  men  who  were  fighting  for  its 
liberties  to  starve  and  freeze  in  this  hour  of  peril  ? 


1778.]  DEMORALIZATION    IN    THE    ARMY.  253 

Even  in  the  army  which  was  engaged  in  protecting  the  dearest 
rights  of  man,  all  were  not  patriots  nor  honest  men.  Whigs  were 
plundered  under  the  pretence  of  being  tories.  Parties  of  a  dozen 
or  twenty  men  at  a  time  returned  home,  or  took  refuge  in  the 
newer  settlements  of  the  country.  In  1781,  one  thousand  men 
perjured  themselves  to  escape  from  the  service,  taking  advantage 
of  an  error  in  the  date  of  their  enlistment.  Some  joined  the 
royalist  regiments,  and  became  spies,  guides,  and  informers. 
Bounty-jumpers  infested  the  ranks.  Drunkenness  and  theft  were 
by  no  means  uncommon.  A  foreigner  of  rank  dying  at  Washing- 
ton's quarters,  and  being  buried  with  his  jewels  and  costly  cloth- 
ing, a  guard  was  placed  over  his  grave  to  prevent  the  soldiers 
from  digging  up  his  body  for  plunder.  Nor  were  the  officers 
always  better  than  their  men.  There  were  those  who  used  for 
their  own  gratification,  money  designed  to  pay  the  troops  under 
their  command :  who  violated  their  furloughs,  and  grossly  neg- 
lected their  duty.  Courts-martial  were  frequent,  and  long  lists 
of  the  cashiered  were  from  time  to  time  forwarded  to  Congress. 
Washington  declared  that  the  officers  sent  him  from  one  State 
were  "not  fit  to  be  shoe-blacks,"  and  wrote  to  a  certain  governor 
that  the  officers  from  his  State  were  "  generally  from  the  lowest 
class,  and  led  their  men  into  every  kind  of  mischief."  Many  of 
the  surgeons,  too,  he  complained,  were  rascals,  receiving  bribes 
to  grant  discharges,  and  applying  to  their  private  use  the  luxuries 
designed  for  the  sick.  There  were  constant  feuds  among  the 
officers  for  rank  and  position.  "  I  am  wearied  to  death,"  wrote 
John  Adams  in  1777,  "  by  the  wrangles  between  military  officers, 
high  and  low.     They  quarrel  like  cats  and  dogs." 

Members  of  Congress  lost  heart.  Many  of  the  strong  men 
stayed  at  home  and  weaklings  took  their  place.  For  some  time 
only  twenty -one  members  were  present.  A  bitter  opposition  to 
Washington  was  developed,  and  while  the  demands  upon  him  as 
commander-in-chief  were  as  exacting  as  ever,  his  recommenda- 
tions and  well-known  opinions  were  openly  thwarted  or  quietly 
ignored.  Arnold  was  the  oldest  brigadier-general,  and,  in  the 
opinion  of  Washington,  there  was  ''  no  more  active,  spirited,  or 
sensible  officer";  yet  he  was  passed  over  in  promotion.  Stark, 
than  whom  none  was  braver,  was  also  slighted,  and  he  retired  to 
his  plow,  and  remained  at  home,  until  he  came  to  Bennington  to 
show  how  a  victory  could  be  won  with  raw  militia.  Gates  was 
appointed  adjutant-general  without  consulting  Washington  as  to 


254  FOURTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [1778. 

whom  he  desired  for  chief  of  his  staff.  The  commissary  depart- 
ment was  reorganized  against  Washington's  expressed  wishes. 
Colonel  Trumbull,  an  efficient  commissary-general,  at  once  re- 
signed. Henceforth  the  bad  working  of  that  department  caused 
continual  delays  and  disasters.  Mifflin,  the  quartermaster- 
general,  was  disgracefully  unmindful  of  his  duties.  Washington 
never  could  get  a  stock  of  provisions  on  hand  for  any  movement 
that  he  contemplated.  Indeed,  it  is  said  that  during  the  dreary 
march  to  Valley  Forge,  when  the  shivering  troops  left  lines  of 
red  behind  them  from  their  bruised  and  bleeding  feet,  that 
"  hogsheads  of  shoes,  stockings,  and  clothing  were  lying  at  dif- 
ferent places  on  the  roads  and  in  the  woods,  perishing  for  want 
of  teams,  or  of  money  to  pay  the  teamsters." 

Officers  who  were  jealous  of  Washington  found  men  in  the 
national  council  to  listen  to  and  even  sympathize  with  them  in 
their  complaints.  At  first.  General  Charles  Lee  was  considered  a 
rival  of  Washington,  and  the  victory  which  others  achieved  for 
him  at  Charleston,  was  contrasted  with  the  disastrous  defeat  on 
Long  Island.  Then  Gates  was  brought  to  the  front,  and  Saratoga 
was  put  by  the  side  of  Brandywine  to  Washington's  disadvan- 
tage. Indeed,  Gates,  after  the  surrender  of  Burgoyne,  did  not 
report  to  the  head  of  the  army,  as  courtesy  and  military  usage 
demanded,  but  direct  to  Congress,  Washington  only  receiving 
tidings  of  the  event  through  hearsay  and  unofficial  letters.  Had 
Gates  dispatched  his  army  at  once  to  Pennsylvania  after  the  sur- 
render, as  Washington  desired  and  earnestly  entreated,  Howe 
might  have  been  driven  from  Philadelphia,  and  the  same  fall, 
perhaps,  his  whole  force  captured,  and  Saratoga  re-enacted  at  the 
Quaker  city.  Yet  Congress,  influenced,  doubtless,  by  the  advice 
of  jealous  officials,  forbade  Washington  to  detach  any  troops  from 
the  northern  army  without  consulting  General  Gates  and  the 
governor  of  New  York.  It  was  only  with  the  greatest  difficulty 
and  by  finally  sending  his  favorite  aid,  Alexander  Hamilton,  with 
peremptory  orders  from  the  commander-in-chief,  that  he  secured 
reinforcements  either  from  Gates  or  from  Putnam. 

At  last  a  cabal  was  organized  to  displace  Washington  from  his 
post  and  elevate  Gates  in  his  stead.  Chief  in  this  movement  was 
General  Conway,  a  wily,  unprincipled  intriguer.  Pennsylvania 
sent  a  remonstrance  to  Congress  against  the  measures  of  Wash- 
ington. Members  from  Massachusetts  re-echoed  their  disappro- 
bation.     While  the  patriot  army  was  marking  out  the  path  of 


1778.] 


INTRIGUES    AGAINST    WASHINGTON. 


255 


liberty  with  blood-stained  feet,  John  Adams  could  write :  "  I  wish 
the  Continental  army  would  prove  that  anything  can  be  done. 
I  am  weary  with  so  much  insipidity."  Samuel  Adams,  who  was 
still  more  impatient,  declared :  '*  I  have  always  been  so  very 
wrong-headed  as  not  to  be  over-well  pleased  with  what  is  called 
the  Fabian  war  in  America."  Benjamin  Rush,  in  a  similar  strain, 
affirmed  that  ''  a  Gates,  a  Lee,  and  a  Conway  in  a  few  weeks 
could  render  the  army  an  irresistible  body  of  men." 

In  October,  1777,  a  board  of  war  was  created  to  have  the 
general  direction  of  military  affairs.  Gates  became  its  president. 
He  was  urged  to  hasten  on  and 
save  the  country.  Conway  was 
made  inspector-general,  and  his 
office  declared  independent  of 
the  commander-in-chief.  By 
the  advice  of  the  board,  an  ex- 
pedition to  Canada  was  planned, 
and,  in  order  to  detach  Lafayette 
from  Washington,  to  whom  he 
clung  with  a  chivalrous  devo- 
tion, he  was  appointed  to  the 
command.  With  the  quick  ap- 
prehension of  a  loving  heart,  he 
detected  the  animus  of  the  cabal. 
By  the  advice  of  Washington, 
however,  he  accepted  the  post. 
Proceeding  to  Yorktown,  he 
found  Gates  at  table,  and  was  at 
once  invited  to  join  the  repast. 
Toasts  were  given,  and  drunk  in 
full  glasses,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  day.  The  marquis 
noticed  a  significant  omission,  and  so  offered  as  a  sentiment, 
*'  Our  commander-in-chief."  It  was  drunk  in  silence.  Washing- 
ton did  all  he  could  to  fit  out  the  expedition,  but  no  one  else 
aided,  and  Lafayette,  indignant  and  disgusted  at  the  failure  of 
those  who  had  promised  him  so  much,  returned  to  his  friend  and 
adviser. 

Washington  was  aware  of  these  intrigues  to  remove  him, 
but  in  perfect  equipoise  of  mind  and  temper,  with  a  patriotism 
that  no  disappointment  or  treachery  could  chill,  and  a  noble 
superiority  to  all  which  affected  only  his  personal  reputation,  he 


MARQUIS  DE  LAFAYETTE. 


256  FOURTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [^j^f^ 

wrote  to  Patrick  Henry  these  magnificent  words:  ''  If  the  cause 

IS    ADVANCED,    INDIFFERENT    IS    IT    TO    ME    WHERE  OR   IN    WHAT 

QUARTER  IT  HAPPENS."  Such  generosity  and  devotion  could  but 
triumph  at  last.  The  army  and  most  of  the  best  men  of  the 
country  implicitly  trusted  Washington.  Their  indignation 
toward  his  enemies  was  unbounded.  The  whole  movement 
finally  recoiled  on  the  heads  of  its  instigators.  Congress  began 
to  perceive  its  error.  The  cabal  lost  its  power.  Neither  Con- 
way nor  Samuel  Adams  dared  to  show  himself  among  the  sol- 
diers. The  office  of  inspector  was  taken  from  the  former,  and 
given  to  Baron  Steuben. 

At  the  last,  however,  Conway  was  the  only  one  of  the  in- 
triguers magnanimous  enough  to  confess  his  fault.  General 
Cadwallader,  who  was  Washington's  devoted  friend,  was  so  in- 
censed at  his  attempt  to  injure  the  commander-in-chief  that  he 
challenged  him  to  personal  combat.  Conway,  being  wounded, 
mortally,  as  he  believed,  wrote  the  following  letter  to  General 
Washington:  "Sir: — I  find  myself  just  able  to  hold  my  pen 
during  a  few  minutes,  and  take  this  opportunity  of  expressing  my 
sincere  grief  for  having  done,  written,  or  said  anything  disagree- 
able to  your  excellency.  My  career  will  soon  be  over  ;  therefore, 
justice  and  truth  prompt  me  to  declare  my  last  sentiments.  You 
are,  in  my  eyes,  the  great  and  good  man.  May  you  long  enjoy 
the  love,  esteem,  and  veneration  of  these  States,  whose  liberties 
you  have  asserted  by  your  virtues."  Washington,  too  great  to 
harbor  resentment,  said,  as  he  closed  the  epistle,  "  Poor  Conway  ! 
He  never  could  have  intended  much  wrong  ;  there  is  nothing  to 
forgive." 

The  particulars  of  this  duel,  as  related  in  Garden's  Anecdotes 
of  the  Revolution,  so  well  illustrate  the  manner  of  conducting 
those  affairs  that  they  appear  worthy  of  record.  They  show,  says 
the  narrator,  that  "  though  imperious  circumstances  may  compel 
men  of  nice  feeling  to  meet,  the  dictates  of  honor  may  be  satisfied 
without  the  smallest  deviation  from  the  most  rigid  rules  of  polite- 
ness. When  arrived  at  the  appointed  rendezvous.  General  Cad- 
wallader accompanied  by  General  Dickinson  of  Pennsylvania,  and 
General  Conway  by  Colonel  Morgan  of  Princeton,  it  was  agreed 
by  the  seconds  that  on  the  word  being  given,  the  principals 
might  fire  in  their  own  time,  and  at  discretion,  either  by  an  off- 
hand shot,  or  by  taking  a  deliberate  aim.  The  parties  having  de- 
clared themselves  ready,  the  word  was  given  to  proceed.     Gen- 


^1778^']  ARRIVAL    OF    BARON    STEUBEN.  257 

eral  Conway  immediately  raised  his  pistol  and  fired  with  great 
composure,  but  without  effect.  General  Cadwallader  was  about 
to  do  so,  when  a  sudden  gust  of  wind  occurring,  he  kept  his  pistol 
down  and  remained  tranquil.  *  Why  do  you  not  fire.  General 
Cadwallader?'  exclaimed  Conway.  'Because,'  replied  General 
Cadwallader, '  we  came  not  here  to  trifle.  Let  the  gale  pass  and 
I  shall  act  my  part.'  '  You  shall  have  a  fair  chance  of  performing 
it  well,'  rejoined  Conway,  and  immediately  presented  a  full  front. 
General  Cadwallader  fired,  and  his  ball  entering  the  mouth  of  his 
antagonist,  he  fell  directly  forward  on  his  face.  Colonel  Morgan 
running  to  his  assistance,  found  the  blood  spouting  from  behind 
his  neck,  and  lifting  up  the  club  of  his  hair,  saw  the  ball  drop  from 
it.  It  had  passed  through  his  head,  greatly  to  the  derangement 
of  his  tongue  and  teeth,  but  did  not  inflict  a  mortal  wound.  As 
soon  as  the  blood  was  sufficiently  washed  away  to  allow  him 
to  speak,  General  Conway,  turning  to  his  opponent,  said,  good- 
humoredly,  *  You  fire,  general,  with  much  deliberation,  and  cer- 
tainly with  a  great  deal  of  effect.'  The  parties  then  retired  free 
from  all  resentment." 

Early  in  February,  there  arrived  in  camp  at  Valley  Forge, 
Baron  Steuben,  a  veteran  of  the  Seven  Years  War  under  Fred- 
erick the  Great.  His  advent  was  hailed  with  enthusiasm.  The 
raw  militia  troops  presented  a  sorry  appearance  to  this  able  dis- 
ciplinarian, accustomed  to  the  exact  order  of  the  Prussian  army ; 
but  he  had  sense  to  see  what  was  needed,  and  to  adapt  his  methods 
to  the  peculiar  condition  of  the  country.  Soon  the  whole  army 
was  under  drill,  Steuben  personally  supervising  every  detail,  even 
to  the  examination  of  each  soldier's  musket  and  accoutrements. 
His  ignorance  of  the  language  was  a  sore  worry  and  embarrass- 
ment to  him,  especially  when  he  sought  to  explain  any  difficult 
manoeuvre  to  his  raw  learners.  "  The  men  blundered  in  their 
exercise ;  the  baron  blundered  in  his  English ;  his  French  and 
German  were  of  no  avail ;  he  lost  his  temper,  which  was  rather 
warm  ;  swore  in  all  three  languages  at  once,  which  made  the 
matter  worse,"  and  was  in  an  agony  of  despair  until  a  New  York 
officer,  who  spoke  French,  stepped  forward  and  offered  his  ser- 
vices as  interpreter.  ''  Had  I  seen  an  angel  from  heaven,"  records 
the  relieved  Prussian,  "  I  could  not  have  been  more  rejoiced." 
Under  his  skillful  discipline,  the  army,  officers  as  well  as  men, 
soon  showed  marked  signs  of  improvement. 

Baron  Steuben  had  brought  over  with  him  a  superior  French 


258  FOURTH  YEAR  OF  THE  REVOLUTION.        ["^fy's!' 

cook  to  serve  in  the  camp.  This  personage  was  horrified  to  find 
no  utensils  or  conveniences  for  preparing  the  choice  dishes  on 
which  he  longed  to  show  his  skill.  He  applied  to  one  of  the  men 
for  information.  "  We  cook  our  meat,"  was  the  reply,  ^'  by  hang- 
ing it  up  by  a  string,  and  turning  it  before  a  good  fire  till  suffi- 
ciently roasted."  The  poor  cook,  appalled  at  such  a  state  of 
affairs,  received  the  daily  rations  of  beef  and  bread  with  the  hope- 
less air  of  a  martyr.  He  loved  his  master,  and,  with  many  shrugs 
and  sighs  and  some  oaths,  tried  to  accommodate  himself  to  the 
trying  situation ;  but  at  last  his  patience  was  exhausted,  and  he 
-sought  the  baron's  presence.  "  Under  happier  circumstances, 
mon  General^'  he  said,  "  it  would  be  my  ambition  to  serve  you ; 
but  here  I  have  no  chance  to  show  my  talents,  and  my  honor 
obliges  me  to  spare  you  my  expense,  since  your  wagoner  is  just  as 
^ble  to  turn  the  string  as  I  am.''  Baron  Steuben  afterward  told 
this  story  with  great  effect  to  a  company  which  expressed  some 
surprise  at  the  resignation  of  Robert  Morris  as  government  finan- 
cier. *^  Believe  me,  gentlemen,"  said  the  baron,  *'  the  treasury  of 
America  is  just  as  empty  as  was  my  kitchen  at  Valley  Forge ;  and 
Mr.  Morris  wisely  retires,  thinking  it  of  very  little  consequence  who 
turns  the  string ^ 

On  March  2d,  General  Greene  was  appointed  Quartermaster- 
General.  He  accepted  the  position  for  a  year  without  compensa- 
tion. His  efficient  measures  soon  changed  the  condition  of  affairs. 
Provisions  began  to  appear  in  camp.  Even  "  Grim-visaged  War," 
when  well  fed,  wore  a  smile.  Ladies,  too,  lent  their  charming 
presence.  The  little  parlor  of  Mrs.  Greene,  who  spoke  French, 
quickly  became  a  favorite  resort  for  foreign  officers,  where  her 
wit  and  graceful  tact  made  her  a  reigning  queen.  Mrs.  Washing- 
ton also  came  to  spend  the  winter,  and  brighten  the  anxious  life 
of  her  husband.  At  the  little  soirees  ''  there  was  tea  or  coffee, 
and  pleasant  conversation  always,  and  music  often ;  no  one  who 
Jiad  a  good  voice  being  allowed  to  refuse  a  song."  The  courtly 
Morris  and  the  brilliant  Reed  were  there  ;  and  Charles  Carroll, 
who  was  to  outlive  them  nearly  all;  and  Knox,  whom  Greene 
loved  as  a  brother ;  the  loved  and  trusted  Lafayette ;  the  gener- 
ous Steuben;  and  the  stately  De  Kalb,  who,  as  the  soldier  of 
Louis  XV.,  had  served  against  Steuben  and  his  royal  master 
Frederick,  in  the  Seven  Years  War;  the  dignified  Sullivan  and 
the  gallant  "Mad  Anthony"  Wayne;  and  a  host  of  others  who 
forgot  for  a  while  the  horrors  and  hardships  of  a  soldier's  life  in 


Wlay  2-20, -| 
1778.      J 


ALLIANCE    WITH    FRANCE. 


259 


LOUIS  XVI.,   MARIE  ANTOINETTE,  AND 
THE   DAUPHIN. 


the  delightful  intercourse  of  friendship.  Gates  was  transferred  to 
the  northern  department  again,  and  made  subject  to  Washing- 
ton's orders. 

The  capture  of  Burgoyne  giving  confidence  to  France,  and  the 
queen,  Marie  Antoinette,  being  our  hearty  ally,  Louis  XVI.  was 
finally  persuaded  to  acknowledge  the 
independence  of  the  United  States 
and  to  make  common  cause  with  the 
Americans.  May  2d,  a  messenger  ar- 
rived in  this  country  with  the  glad 
news.  Four  days  after,  there  was  a 
fete  at  Valley  Forge,  and  a  salute  was 
fired  in  honor  of  Louis  XVL  The 
disaster  to  Burgoyne,  and  the  French 
Alliance,  produced  a  great  effect  in 
England.  There  was  a  loud  cry  to 
put  an  end  to  the  useless  contest. 
The  minority  in  parliament,  op- 
posed to  the  government,  again  raised  its  warning  voice.  Fox 
wished  to  have  the  colonies  declared  free  at  once.     Lord  North's 

"  Conciliatory  Bills,"  as  they  were 
termed,  were  readily  passed. 
These  authorized  the  appoint- 
ment of  commissioners  to  treat 
for  peace  with  the  government  of 
the  United  Colonies.  They  could 
not  grant  independence,  however, 
and  that  alone  would  satisfy  the 
"rebels";  and  so  nothing  came 
of  the  attempt  at  a  reconciliation. 
General  Howe's  military  career  in  the  United  States  had  not 
proved  a  success.  He  now  resigned.  The  close  of  his  inglorious 
residence  in  Philadelphia  was  celebrated  by  a  famous  pageant  or 
mischianza,  a  sort  of  medley  of  tournament  and  regatta.  Its 
splendor  and  mock  heroics  were  the  theme  of  merriment  and 
wonder  in  the  staid  Quaker  city  for  many  a  day. 

Just  after  this  festival,  Howe  received  news  that  Lafayette, 
with  a  large  force,  had  taken  post  at  Barren  Hills,  twelve  miles 
nearer  Philadelphia  than  Valley  Forge,  to  watch  the  British  army 
more  closely.  To  cut  off  this  detachment  would  shed  a  parting 
gleam  of  glory  over  his  American  career.     He  sent  out  General 


aiEDAL  COMMEMORATING   THE  ALLIANCE   BETWEEN 
FRANCE  AND  THE  UNITED  STATES. 


26o  FOURTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [''"778.^* 

Grant  by  night  with  a  picked  body  of  men,  while  he  followed 
with  the  main  force.  Lafayette  was  nearly  taken ;  but,  by  a  skill- 
ful manoeuvre,  he  seized  the  only  ford  not  guarded  by  the  enemy, 
made  a  feint  of  attacking  Grant,  and  while  that  general  was  get- 
ting ready  for  battle,  the  brave  young  Frenchman  was  on  his  way 
to  Washington.  Howe  came  back  weary  and  disappointed  from 
his  bootless  expedition. 

Clinton,  who  succeeded  Howe,  received  orders  to  evacuate 
Philadelphia  and  to  concentrate  his  forces  at  New  York.  As  the 
commissioners,  who  had  been  sent  over,  as  we  have  seen,  to 
restore  the  old  condition  of  affairs,  landed  in  Philadelphia,  they 
found  the  flight  already  begun.  Sad  was  the  fate  of  the  aban- 
doned tories.  "  The  winter's  revelry  was  over ;  honors  and 
offices  turned  suddenly  to  bitterness  and  ashes,  and  papers  of 
protection  were  only  a  peril."  Three  thousand  houseless  fugi- 
tives, carrying  all  they  could  save  from  the  wreck,  followed  the 
army.  Washington  rapidly  pursued  the  British  across  New 
Jersey.  General  Charles  Lee  held  the  advance.  He  had  orders 
to  attack  the  enemy  ;  instead,  he  grossly  neglected  his  duty,  even 
if  he  did  not  treacherously  lead  his  troops  into  peril. 

It  was  a  hot,  sultry  Sunday  morning,  June  28th.  Washington, 
sitting  on  his  horse  near  the  Freehold  meeting-house,  west  of 
Monmouth,  was  planning  for  the  battle  now  just  beginning,  as 
he  thought  from  the  few  dropping  shots  in  the  distance.  Sud- 
denly he  was  startled  by  the  news  that  the  Americans  were 
falling  back.  Spurring  forward,  he  found  the  advance-guard  in 
full  flight  before  an  overwhelming  force.  Riding  up  to  Lee,  he 
demanded,  "  Whence  arises  this  disorder  and  confusion  ?  "  Lee 
could  only  stammer  "  Sir — sir."  Not  a  minute  could  be  lost. 
The  genius  of  Washington  never  shone  out  more  fully  than  now. 
Rallying  the  fugitives  and  judiciously  posting  a  battery,  he 
checked  the  pursuit  upon  a  narrow  causeway  traversing  a  deep 
morass.  A  new  line  of  battle  was  formed  back  of  the  swamp. 
General  Stirling  commanding  the  left,  Greene  the  right,  and 
Washington  the  centre.  Wayne  was  posted  in  advance,  under 
the  protection  of  an  orchard  and  a  battery  on  Comb's  Hill.  The 
British  attacking  the  left  and  right  were  several  times  repulsed. 
Finally  Monckton  advanced  upon  Wayne  at  the  head  of  the 
English  grenadiers.  So  perfect  was  their  discipline  and  so  accu- 
rately did  they  march,  that  it  is  said  that  a  single  ball  striking  in 
line  with  a  platoon  disarmed  every  man.      As  they  came  close  to 


June  28,1 
1778.    J 


BATTLE    OF    MONMOUTH. 


261 


the  American  position,  their  leader  waved  his  sword  for  the 
charge.  Wayne  at  the  same  moment  gave  the  order  to  fire.  Every 
British  officer  fell.  The  men  fought  desperately  over  Monckton's 
body ;  but  the  whole  line  finally  gave  way,  and  the  patriots  took 
possession  of  the  hotly-contested  field.  Washington  was  prepar- 
ing in  turn  to  attack  the  enemy,  when  night  closed  the  struggle. 
Under  cover  of  the  darkness,  Clinton  withdrew  his  men.  The 
American  loss  was  about  two  hundred  and  thirty  ;  the  English 


MOLLY   PITCHER  AT  THE   BATTLE  OF  MONMOUTH. 


lost  over  four  hundred,  and  eight  hundred  more  deserted  their 
colors  before  they  reached  New  York.  Many  of  the  troops  on 
both  sides,  it  is  said,  fell  from  the  intense  heat  (ninety-six  degrees 
in  the  shade)  without  a  wound. 

During  the  day  an  artillery  man  was  shot  at  his  post.  His 
wife,  Mary  Pitcher — a  "  red-haired,  freckled-faced  young  Irish- 
woman," who  was  already  distinguished  for  having  fired  the  last 
gun  at  Fort  Clinton—while  bringing  water  to  her  husband  from  a 
spring,  saw  him  fall  and  heard  the  commander  order  the  piece  to 
be  removed  from  the  field.  Instantly  dropping  the  pail,  she 
hastened  to  the  cannon,  seized  the  rammer,  and  with  great  skill 
and  courage  performed  her  husband's  duty.  The  soldiers  gave 
her  the  nickname  of  Captain  Molly.  On  the  day  after  the  battle, 
she  was  presented  to  Washington,  and  received  a  sergeant's  com- 


262  FOURTH  YEAR  OF  THE  REVOLUTION.         [''"'y  ^ 


mission  with  half-pay  through  life.  Her  bravery  made  her  a 
great  favorite  among  the  French  officers,  and  she  would  some- 
times pass  along  the  lines  holding  out  her  cocked-hat,  which  they 
would  nearly  fill  with  crown  pieces. 

Lee,  after  Washington's  rebuke,  did  nothing  except  to  sit  idly 
in  the  rear  and  declaim  upon  the  madness  of  the  attempt  to  fight 
the  enemy.  The  next  day  he  wrote  to  the  general  demanding 
an  apology.  Washington  having  replied  in  a  dignified  manner^ 
Lee  returned  a  most  insulting  letter,  in  which  he  grandiloquently 
expressed  a  hope  that  "■  temporary  power  of  office  and  the  tinsel 
dignity  attending  it  would  not  be  able,  by  the  mists  they  could 
raise,  to  obfuscate  the  bright  rays  of  truth."  He  was  court-mar- 
tialled  and  suspended  for  a  year.  Later,  for  obtaining  money 
from  British  officers,  and  for  an  insulting  letter  to  Congress,  he 
was  dismissed  from  the  service. 

Washington  moved  his  army  to  the  North  River.  In  August, 
he  thus  wrote  from  White  Plains :  "  After  two  years  manoeuvring 
and  the  strangest  vicissitudes,  both  armies  are  brought  back  to 
the  very  point  they  set  out  from,  and  the  offending  party  at  the 
beginning  is  now  reduced  to  the  use  of  the  spade  and  pickaxe  for 
defence.  The  hand  of  Providence  has  been  so  conspicuous  in  all 
this,  that  he  must  be  worse  than  an  infidel  that  lacks  faith,  and 
more  than  wicked  that  has  not  gratitude  enough  to  acknowledge 
his  obligations." 

Congress  now  returned  to  Philadelphia.  On  the  15  th  of 
November,  1777,  it  had  agreed  upon  articles  of  confederation  for 
the  closer  union  of  the  several  States  and  the  more  perfect  har- 
mony of  their  action.  These  had  been  accepted  by  eight  of  the 
States.  The  others  were  now  called  upon  to  "■  conclude  the 
glorious  compact."  All  agreed  except  Maryland,  which  refused 
on  the  plea  that  the  public  lands  northwest  of  the  Ohio  should  be 
the  common  property  of  the  States.  So  the  subject  was  post- 
poned, and  the  general  government  dragged  along  its  feeble  exist- 
ence, having,  indeed,  the  right  to  advise  and  appoint,  but  being 
destitute  of  any  power  to  demand  or  enforce.  It  was  the  era  of 
State  rights. 

The  French  fleet  under  Count  d'Estaing  having  arrived  off 
the  coast,  a  combined  land  and  naval  expedition  was  planned  to 
recover  Rhode  Island.  Sullivan  was  placed  in  charge  of  the 
troops.  Washington  spared  two  brigades  from  his  weakened 
ranks.     New  England  in  twenty  days  increased  his  forces  to  ten 


'J^'/s.']  MASSACRE    AT    WYOMING.  265 

thousand  men.  On  the  29th  of  July,  the  French  entered  Narra- 
gansett  Bay.  Some  days  after,  Howe  arrived  off  the  harbor  with 
the  EngHsh  fleet.  D'Estaing  went  out  to  meet  him.  A  terrible 
storm  came  on,  which  so  shattered  both  fleets  that  they  were 
compelled  to  put  back  for  repairs — the  English  to  New  York  and 
the  French  to  Boston.  General  Sullivan,  though  deserted,  was 
loath  to  leave.  Just  as  he  began  his  retreat,  the  English  at-^ 
tempted  to  cut  off  his  right  wing.  Greene,  by  a  brilliant  attack, 
drove  back  the  enemy,  and  secured  the  escape  of  the  army  just 
in  time  to  avoid  Clinton,  who  came  up  from  New  York  with  rein- 
forcements for  the  British.  The  French  gave  no  further  aid  dur- 
ing the  year. 

The  beautiful  Valley  of  Wyoming,  famed  in  history  and  song, 
was  settled  mainly  from  Connecticut.  The  charter  of  that 
colony  was  older  than  that  of  Pennsylvania,  and  gave  it  a  strip 
of  land  extending  from  sea  to  sea.  Differences  naturally  arose 
with  the  Pennsylvania  government.  These  were  finally  settled 
by  an  appeal  to  the  king,  who  decided  in  favor  of  Connecticut.. 
The  colony  was  therefore  created  as  the  town  of  Westmoreland, 
and  attached  to  Litchfield  county.  These  local  disputes  faded 
out  only  in  the  more  absorbing  topics  of  the  Revolution.  This 
valley,  smiling  in  peace  and  plenty,  now  lay  open  to  attack  from 
the  Six  Nations,  who  bitterly  remembered  the  slaughter  of  their 
braves  at  Oriskany  and  panted  for  revenge.  The  able-bodied 
men  were  in  the  Continental  regiments,  and  though  they  urged 
the  defenceless  condition  of  their  wives  and  children.  Congress 
took  little  or  no  action  in  their  behalf.  The  women  and  the  old 
men  plowed,  sowed,  reaped,  and  made  gunpowder  for  the  little 
garrison  in  their  forts,  obtaining  the  nitre  by  leaching  the  soil 
under  the  floors  of  their  houses. 

Early  in  the  summer  a  force  of  five  or  six  hundred  men, 
consisting  of  Butler's  Rangers,  Johnson's  Royal  Greens,  and  a 
body  of  Indians,  principally  Senecas,  under  a  celebrated  chief 
named  Giengwatah,  or  The-one-who-goes-in-the-smoke,  dropped 
down  the  Chemung  and  Susquehanna  Rivers  in  canoes,  and  on  July 
1st  appeared  in  the  Wyoming  Valley.  All  was  dismay.  Those  who 
could,  fled  to  their  forts.  Two  of  their  strongholds  were  quickly 
captured.  Colonel  Zebulon  Butler  of  the  Continental  army,  who 
happened  to  be  at  home,  took  command  of  the  forlorn  hope  of 
three  hundred  soldiers — old  men  and  boys — all  that  could  be 
mustered  for  the  defence  of  their  homes.     With  these  he  marched 


264  FOURTH  YEAR  OF  THE  REVOLUTION.         Uma.' 

out  to  meet  the  enemy.  He  found  them  near  Wintermoot's 
Fort,  near  the  site  of  the  present  village  of  Troy,  ready  to  meet 
him.  Outnumbered  from  the  first,  the  Americans  could  have 
little  hope.  They  held  their  ground  bravely,  however,  for  half 
an  hour,  when,  their  left  being  outflanked  by  an  Indian  ambush. 
Colonel  Denison,  in  command  at  that  point,  gave  the  order  to  fall 
back.  He  was  misunderstood,  and  the  fatal  word  "  retreat "  was 
passed  down  the  lines.  The  Indians  sprang  from  their  coverts, 
and  a  terrible  massacre  ensued.  Few  of  the  patriots  escaped. 
Some  were  slain  on  the  banks  of  the  river ;  some  were  toma- 
hawked among  the  bushes  ;  some  fled  to  an  island  and  were  hunted 
to  death.  The  Senecas  took  two  hundred  and  twenty-five  scalps. 
No  mercy  was  shown.  One  tory  brutally  murdered  his  own 
brother  while  crying  for  quarter.  Lieutenant  Shoemaker,  ^'  whom 
to  know  was  to  love,"  was  treacherously  tomahawked  by  Win- 
decker,  a  man  who  had  often  received  his  generous  bounty. 

That  night,  tories  and  Indians  held  high  carnival.  Captain 
Bidlack  was  thrown  on  the  burning  embers  of  the  fort  and 
held  down  with  pitchforks  till  he  expired.  Sixteen  prisoners 
were  arranged  around  a  large  stone,  still  known  as  Queen 
Esther's  rock.  The  savages  held  them  while  a  Seneca  half- 
breed  by  that  name  walked  slowly  round  the  circle,  singing  a 
death-song  and  striking  them  one  by  one,  alternately  with  her 
hatchet  and  mallet.  Two  of  the  captives,  breaking  away,  escaped 
to  the  bushes  under  a  shower  of  balls.  The  next  day,  the  forts 
surrendered.  Though  lives  were  spared  thereafter,  robbery  and 
arson  ran  riot.  Butler  could  not  restrain  his  savage  allies.  The 
inhabitants  fled  from  the  scene  of  terror.  The  swamp  through 
which  they  made  their  way  is  remembered  to  this  day  as  the 
Shades  of  Death.  Children  were  born  and  buried  in  this  terrible 
flight.  Many  were  lost  in  the  wilderness  and  perished  miserably. 
The  fainting  survivors  straggled  into  the  settlements  on  the  other 
side  of  the  mountains,  famine-stricken  and  desolate.  Meantime 
the  savages  pillaged  and  burned  their  deserted  houses.  Decked 
in  their  booty,  they  at  last  withdrew.  "  The  appearance  of  the 
retiring  enemy,"  says  Lossing,  ''  was  extremely  ludicrous,  aside 
from  the  melancholy  savagism  that  was  presented.  Many 
squaws  accompanied  the  invaders,  and  these  brought  up  the  rear. 
Some  had  belts  around  their  waists,  made  of  scalps  stretched 
on  small  hoops ;  some  had  on  from  four  to  six  dresses  of  chintz 
or  silk,  one  over  the  other ;  and  others,  mounted  on  stolen  horses, 


^?778-9.""]  OPERATIONS    IN    THE    WEST.  265 

and  seated  *  not  sidewise,  but  otherwise,'  had  on  their  heads  four 
or  five  bonnets,  one  within  another." 

Clinton,  after  his  bootless  expedition  to  Newport,  returned  to 
New  York,  detaching,  however,  Grey,  of  Paoli  massacre  mem- 
ory, to  ravage  the  New  England  coast.  New  Bedford,  Fair 
Haven,  and  Martha's  Vineyard  were  laid  waste.  In  September, 
Cornwallis  led  a  foray  into  New  Jersey,  during  which  "  No-flint 
Grey  "  surprised  Baylor's  light-horse  while  they  were  quietly 
resting  in  some  barns  in  Old  Tappan.  Cries  for  mercy  fell  on 
deaf  ears.  Eleven  of  the  dragoons  were  butchered,  and  twenty- 
five  desperately  mangled  by  bayonet  thrusts,  some  receiving  as 
many  as  sixteen  wounds.  At  the  same  time,  Captain  Ferguson 
emulated  his  rival  in  the  bayonet  exercise  by  destroying  the  ship- 
ping in  Little  Egg  Harbor,  and  thence  scouring  the  adjacent 
country,  burning  the  houses  of  those  who  were  pointed  out  as 
patriots  by  the  tories  who  accompanied  the  expedition.  Count 
Pulaski  had  been  sent  out  with  his  legion  to  check  these  preda- 
tory incursions.  Ferguson,  going  up  the  river  in  boats  during 
the  night  of  the  15th  of  October,  noiselessly  surrounded  the 
house  in  which  Pulaski's  infantry  was  quartered.  "  It  being  a 
night  attack,"  wrote  the  captain  afterward  in  his  report,  "  little 
quarter  could  be  given,  so  there  were  only  five  prisoners ^ 

The  western  part  of  Virginia  and  Kentucky  would  have  suf- 
fered equally  with  Wyoming  Valley  had  it  not  been  for  the  energy 
and  vigilance  of  Colonel  Clark.  Hamilton,  the  British  general  at 
Detroit,  was  busy  in  organizing  parties  of  savages  for  forays  upon 
the  defenceless  frontier  settlement.  He  offered  rewards  for  scalps, 
not  for  prisoners,  and  was  known  as  the  **  hair-buying  general." 
Clark,  by  a  bold  dash,  seized  Kaskaskia,  and  the  county  of  Illinois 
became  a  part  of  Virginia.  Hamilton,  thereupon  invading  the 
country,  summoned  the  post  of  Vincennes  to  surrender.  Captain 
Helm  had  but  one  man  as  garrison,  but  maintained  a  bold  front, 
and  standing  with  lighted  match  over  a  cannon,  he  deceived  the 
enemy  and  secured  the  honors  of  war.  Hamilton  was  now  more 
active  than  ever  in  preparing  for  bloody  work.  The  ensuing  win- 
ter, Clark,  whose  situation  looked  desperate,  finding  that  Hamil- 
ton had  sent  off"  most  of  his  men  on  predatory  excursions,  sud- 
denly set  out  in  January  with  one  hundred  and  thirty  bold  men 
to  recapture  Vincennes.  The  river  was  high,  and  in  crossing  the 
"drowned  lands"  of  the  Wabash  they  had  to  wade  for  miles  with 
the  icy  water  breast  high.     But  he  resolutely  kept  on,  and  laid 


266  FOURTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  l^nie?' 

siege  to  the  fort,  which,  with  its  garrison  and  governor,  fell  into 
his  hands. 

The  loth  of  November  saw  the  terrible  scenes  of  Wyoming 
repeated  in  Cherry  Valley,  New  York.  A  body  of  tories,  regulars 
and  Indians,  under  Walter  Butler,  son  of  John  Butler,  and  Brandt, 
the  Mohawk  chief,  crept  into  this  settlement  under  cover  of  the 
early  morning  mist.  The  fort,  garrisoned  by  Continental  troops, 
was  too  strong  to  be  carried,  but  over  thirty  of  the  inhabitants — 
men,  women  and  children — were  murdered,  and  all  the  houses 
fired.  Brandt  showed  mercy  at  times,  but  the  tories,  "  more 
savage  than  the  savages,"  knew  no  pity.  Mr.  Wells  was  cut 
down  while  at  prayer.  A  mother  and  her  innocent  babe  were 
slain  in  bed  together.  After  the  marauders  had  gone  away  with 
their  booty,  the  survivors  timidly  stole  back  to  find  the  mangled 
bodies  of  fathers,  mothers,  wives,  husbands  and  children  amid  the 
burning  timbers  of  their  homes. 

Brandt  afterward  pushed  his  incursions  mto  Orange  county. 
Here,  we  are  told,  one  day  the  savages  came  to  a  school-house 
which  was  filled  with  young  children.  They  took  the  school- 
master into  the  woods  and  killed  him.  They  then  clove  the  skulls 
of  several  of  the  boys  with  their  tomahawks ;  but  the  little  girls, 
who  stood  looking  on  horror-struck,  and  waiting  for  instant 
death,  were  spared.  A  tall  savage — it  was  Brandt — dashed  a 
mark  of  black  paint  upon  their  aprons,  and  when  the  other  sav- 
ages saw  it  they  left  them  unharmed.  Swift  as  an  inspiration,  the 
little  girls  resolved  to  save  their  brothers.  They  flung  over  them 
their  aprons,  and  when  the  next  Indians  passed  by,  they  were 
spared  for  the  mark  they  bore. 

The  Six  Nations  had  not  taken  the  field  until  1777  at  the 
battle  of  Oriskany.  Their  determination  to  bear  arms  against 
the  colonists,  with  whom  they  had  fought  so  bravely  during  the 
French  and  Indian  war,  was  due  to  the  influence  of  the  Johnsons. 
Sir  William  had  been  knighted  for  the  victory  of  Lake  George. 
After  the  war,  he  received  a  tract  of  one  hundred  thousand  acres 
north  of  the  Mohawk,  long  known  as '' Kingsland."  In  1764,  he 
built  Johnson  Hall,  near  Johnstown,  about  twenty-five  miles  west 
of  Schenectady. 

Here  he  lived  with  the  splendor  of  an  old  feudal  baron,  and 
dispensed  a  lavish  hospitality.  His  influence  over  the  Indians 
was  almost  unbounded.  Many  anecdotes  are  told  of  his  shrewd- 
ness in  dealing  with  them.     Allen  relates  that  on  his  receiving 


1775-1778.]      THE  JOHNSONS  AND   THE   SIX   NATIONS.  267 

from  England  some  fine  laced  clothes,  the  Mohawk  chief,  Hen- 
drick,  desiring  to  equal  the  baronet  in  the  splendor  of  his  apparel, 
with  a  demure  face  pretended  to  have  dreamed  that  Sir  William 
had  presented  him  with  a  suit  of  the  decorated  garments.  As  the 
solemn  hint  could  not  be  mistaken  or  avoided,  the  Indian  mon- 
arch was  gratified,  and  went  away  highly  pleased  with  the  success 
of  his  device.  But,  alas  for  Hendrick's  short-sighted  sagacity,  in 
a  few  days.  Sir  William,  in  turn,  had  a  dream,  to  the  effect  that 
the  chief  had  given  him  several  thousand  acres  of  land.  "  The 
land  is  yours,"  said  Hendrick ;  "  but  now,  Sir  William,  I  never 
dream  with  you  again ;  you  dream  too  hard  for  me." 

When  the  difficulties  arose  with  England,  the  contest  in  Sir 
William's  mind  between  his  love  of  liberty  and  his  loyalty  to  the 
king  brought  on  a  fit  of  apoplexy,  of  which  he  died.  His  son  and 
heir.  Sir  John  Johnson,  and  his  sons-in-law.  Colonel  Guy  Johnson 
and  Colonel  Claus,  felt  no  reluctance  in  supporting  the  royal 
cause.  They  at  first  fortified  their  stone  mansions  in  the  Mohawk 
Valley,  armed  their  Scotch  tenants,  and,  with  their  adherents,  the 
Butlers  of  Try  on  county,  and  Brandt,  the  great  Mohawk  sachem, 
prepared  for  defence.  Finally  they  all  fled  to  Canada.  The  Six 
Nations  declared  for  the  crown.  Sir  John  raised  a  body  of  tories, 
known  as  the  Royal  Greens.  Their  names  were  henceforth  asso- 
ciated with  deeds  of  crime  and  bloodshed,  in  which  the  tories  far 
surpassed  their  Indian  allies.  Wyoming  and  Cherry  Valleys 
were  only  illustrations  on  a  large  scale  of  minor  massacres  which 
kept  in  continued  dread  the  entire  frontier  to  the  very  suburbs 
of  Albany. 

The  peace  commissioners  returning  to  England  after  their 
unsuccessful  mission  to  the  United  States,  were  fierce  in  their 
denunciations.  "  No  quarter,"  exclaimed  one  of  their  number, 
**  ought  to  be  shown  to  their  Congress.  If  the  infernals  could  be 
let  loose  on  them,  I  should  approve  the  measure."  The  govern- 
ment did  not  have  it  all  its  own  way,  however.  The  Bishop  of 
Peterborough  called  attention  to  the  significant  fact  that  in  the 
army-appropriation  was  an  item  for  "  scalping-knives  " ;  and  many 
followed  him  denouncing  the  use  of  such  instruments  of  war. 

The  English,  discouraged  by  their  repeated  failures  in  the 
Eastern  and  Middle  States,  now  decided  to  transfer  their  forces  to 
the  South.  Henceforth,  the  Revolutionary  struggle  was  mainly 
confined  to  that  field.  In  combination  with  various  minor  move- 
ments, three  thousand  men,  under  Lieutenant-Colonel  Campbell, 


268  FOURTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [°i778.'' 

were  sent  from  New  York,  and  on  December  23d  appeared  off 
Tybee  Island.  Soon  after,  the  fleet  passed  the  bar  and  the  troops 
landed  near  Five-fathom  Hole.  General  Howe,  with  his  little 
army  of  militia,  not  a  third  as  large  as  that  of  the  enemy,  resolved 
to  fight  for  the  defence  of  Savannah.  He  accordingly  took  a 
strong  position  at  the  head  of  a  causeway,  with  a  swamp  on  one 
side  and  rice-fields  on  the  other.  The  British,  having  driven  his 
advance  from  Brewton's  Hill,  manoeuvred  as  if  to  assault  in  front. 
Meanwhile,  guided  by  a  negro  named  Quamino  Dolly,  Sir  James 
Baird  and  a  party  passed  through  a  by-path  in  the  swamp  and 
turned  the  American  position.  The  patriots,  attacked  at  once  in 
front  and  rear,  soon  gave  way  in  despair.  Some  were  drowned 
in  the  swamp,  and  many  were  captured.  The  pursuers,  chasing 
the  refugees  through  the  town,  bayoneted  several  unarmed  citi- 
zens whom  they  found  on  the  streets.  So  the  English  captured 
Savannah,  the  capital  of  Georgia,  including  all  its  extensive  stores, 
with  a  total  loss  of  only  twenty-four  killed  and  wounded.  The 
captives,  refusing  to  enlist  in  the  British  army,  were  hurried 
into  the  prison-ships  to  speedily  die  of  disease.  Protection  was 
offered  to  those  of  the  inhabitants  who  would  return  to  their 
allegiance.  Numbers  flocked  to  the  British  standard,  while  many 
patriots  fled  to  the  uplands  and  to  Carolina. 

After  his  gallant  exploit  at  Charleston,  Sergeant  Jasper  re- 
ceived from  Colonel  Moultrie  a  roving  commission  entitling  him 
to  form  a  scouting  command.  His  spies  often  proved  of  great 
service  to  the  American  army.  At  one  time,  he  remained  in 
Savannah,  after  its  capture  by  the  British,  several  days,  collect- 
ing valuable  information  concerning  the  English  forces  and  their 
position.  Some  of  his  adventures  were  full  of  romance.  One, 
especially,  has  become  historical. 

Near  Ebenezer,  he  met  a  Mrs.  Jones,  whose  story  awakened 
his  sympathies.  Her  husband  had  taken  the  oath  of  allegiance  to 
the  British  government,  but  afterward  joined  the  American 
army.  Having  been  captured,  he  was  now,  with  several  compan- 
ions, en  route  to  Savannah,  to  be  tried  and  probably  hanged.  Ser- 
geant Jasper  and  his  friend  Newton  determined  to  rescue  the 
prisoners.  Thinking  that  the  party  would  stop  to  drink  at  a 
pleasant  spring  about  two  miles  out  of  Savannah,  the  two  patriots 
went  ahead,  and,  hiding  themselves  in  the  bushes  near  by,  awaited 
the  turn  of  affairs.  Upon  reaching  the  point,  the  guard  stacked 
arms,  leaving  two  of  their  number  in  charge  of  the  prisoners. 


1778.] 


EXPLOIT    OF    SERGEANT    JASPER. 


269 


Taking  advantage  of  a  moment  when  the  sentinels'  backs  were 
turned,  Jasper  and  Newton  sprang  from  their  covert,  seized  the 
guns,  shot  the  two  armed  soldiers,  and  called  upon  the  rest  to 
surrender.  They  had  no  resource  but  to  yield.  The  irons  were 
knocked  off  the  prisoners  and  placed  on  the  late  guard.  The 
whole  party  then,  redeemed  friends  and  captive  soldiers,  marched 
into  the  American  camp  at  Purysburg. 

The  next  year,  when  Jasper  lay  dying  before  the  fortifications 
of  Savannah,  his  last  words  were,  ''  Tell  Jones,  his  wife  and  son, 
that  the  remembrance  of  the  battle  I  fought  for  them  brought  a 
secret  joy  to  my  heart  when  it  was  about  to  stop  its  motion  for- 
ever." The  spring,  named  after  Jasper,  is  now  neatly  walled  in, 
and  is  the  resort  of  hundreds  of  visitors. 


JOSEPH   BRANDT. 

(J^r^M  a  Painting  by  CatUn.) 


CHAPTER    VI 


FIFTH  YEAfR  OF  THE  ^EVOLUTIOJ^—iyjg. 


ITH  the  opening  of  the  year  the 
English  vigorously  pushed  their 
success  at  the  South.  General 
Prevost,  commanding  the  royal 
forces  in  Florida,  marched  across 
the  wilderness,  captured  Sun- 
bury,  the  only  fort  in  Georgia 
occupied  by  the  Americans, 
reached  Savannah,  and  assumed 
command.  Campbell  was  sent 
to  take  possession  of  Augusta. 
The  whole  State  lay  at  his  mercy. 
Sir  James  Wright  was  reinstated 
governor,  and  all  things  were  restored  as  in  the  good  old  times 
before  the  war.  England  could  once  more  boast  of  a  royal  pro- 
vince among  her  former  colonies.  The  conquest  of  South  Caro- 
lina now  seemed  imminent.  Meanwhile,  Major-General  Lincoln 
had  arrived  to  take  command  of  the  patriot  troops  in  the  southern 
department.  His  little  force  of  eleven  hundred  men  was  en- 
camped on  the  Savannah,  near  Purysburg.  Port  Royal  being 
taken  by  a  British  detachment  which  landed  from  their  ships, 
Moultrie  was  sent  to  drive  them  out.  Rallying  some  militia  to 
his  standard,  he  accomplished  the  task  in  gallant  style. 

A  large  body  of  North  Carolina  royalists  having  started  to 
join  Prevost  at  Augusta,  Colonel  Pickens,  with  a  party  of  citizens 
from  Ninety-Six,  fell  upon  them  at  Kettle  Creek  as  they  were 
plundering  about  the  country,  and  put  them  to  rout.  Seventy  of 
the  prisoners  were  tried  by  jury  and  convicted  of  treason.  Five 
of  the  most  influential  were  executed.  This  mode  of  treating  pris- 
oners of  war  was  a  dangerous  precedent,  and  served  as  an  excuse 
to  the  British  for  similar  usage  on  a  more  extended  scale. 


»^aj-779!^y'J      CAMPAIGN   IN    GEORGIA   AND   SOUTH    CAROLINA.  2/1 

Lincoln,  being  reinforced,  had  hopes  of  recovering  Northern 
Georgia.  He  accordingly  detached  General  Ashe  with  fifteen 
hundred  men  to  take  post  opposite  Augusta.  At  his  coming,  the 
British  evacuated  the  town.  Ashe  thereupon  crossed  the  river, 
and  followed  on  nearly  to  Brier  Creek,  half  way  to  Savannah. 
He  had  apparently  "  never  heard  of  military  discipline  and  vigi- 
lance." On  the  3d  of  March,  Prevost  surprised  his  position.  The 
militia  threw  away  their  guns  and  fled  at  the  first  fire.  The  Con- 
tinentals, sixty  strong,  fought  bravely,  but  uselessly.  Of  the 
whole  detachment,  only  four  hundred  and  fifty,  by  wading  the 
swamp  and  swimming  the  river,  rejoined  Lincoln  in  camp. 

Leaving  Moultrie  with  one  thousand  militia  to  guard  the  pas- 
sage of  the  Savannah,  Lincoln  now  crossed  the  river  and  marched 
up  toward  Augusta,  hoping  to  protect  the  legislature  of  Geor- 
gia, then  about  to  convene.  Prevost  also  immediately  crossed, 
and,  driving  Moultrie  before  him,  moved  towards  Charleston. 
He  was  accompanied  by  Indians,  and  still  more  relentless  tory 
allies.  It  was  a  grand  marauding  time.  Every  house  belonging 
to  a  whig  was  robbed  of  money,  jewelry,  and  even  furniture. 
Windows,  mirrors,  and  crockery  were  wantonly  broken.  Ani- 
mals which  could  not  be  driven  off,  were  shot.  Tombs  were 
desecrated.  Gardens  were  trampled  underfoot.  The  appear- 
ance of  this  banditti  before  Charleston,  May  nth,  aroused  the 
deepest  anxiety.  Had  Prevost  arrived  two  days  earlier  he  might 
have  taken  the  city  at  once.  Fortifications  had  been  hastily 
thrown  up ;  troops  had  arrived,  and  there  was  now  a  chance  of 
defence.  The  council,  however,  parleyed  with  the  enemy,  sure 
at  least  of  gaining  time.  At  this  juncture  South  Carolina  felt 
itself  alone.  Washington  had  been  able  to  send  South  but  few 
men.  Congress  had  done  nothing  except  to  commend  the  arm- 
ing of  the  slaves — a  proposition  indignantly  rejected  by  the  Caro- 
linians. 

Rutledge,  against  the  bitter  opposition  of  such  men  as 
Laurens,  Gadsden,  Ferguson,  and  Edwards,  proposed  that  South 
Carolina  should  remain  neutral  during  the  rest  of  the  war.  Pre- 
vost declined  the  offer.  ''  Then  we  will  fight  it  out,"  exclaimed 
Moultrie,  and  forthwith  waved  the  flag  from  the  city  gate  as  a 
signal  that  debate  was  over.  But  Prevost  had  learned  that  Lin- 
coln was  coming  by  forced  marches,  and  so,  after  gathenng  what 
plunder  he  could  in  the  neighborhood,  he  retired  to  St.  John's 
Island.     Lincoln,  on  his  arrival,  prepared  an  attack  on  the  re- 


2/2 


FIFTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 


[^77^: 


doubts  which  protected  the  ferry  across  the  Stono  River  to  the 
island.  He  was  repulsed.  Soon  after,  Prevost,  unperceived, 
escaped  by  interior  navigation  to  Georgia,  leaving  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Maitland  with  a  garrison 
at  Beaufort.  Summer  heats,  like 
winter  colds  at  the  North,  now 
prevented  further  operations. 

The    outrages    committed   by 
Prevost's     men 
were    long    re- 
membered.    A 
large  body  took 

possession      of       K    ikt  zM    }■■.      ^^-k       ^"^PX     the  house  and 

plantation  of 
Mr.  Robert 
Gibbes  on  the 
Stono  River. 
This  gentle- 
man had  an 
aged  and  in- 
firm brother, 
Mr.  John  Gib- 
bes,  who  was 
then  on  a  visit 
to  him  from 
his  beautiful 
home  near 
Charleston, 
where  his 
grounds  were 
laid  out  with 
exquisite  taste 
and  at  a  great 
expense.  A 
Major  Sheri- 
dan,  arriving 

at  Mr.  Robert  Gibbes's  from  the  army  on  the  Neck,  was  asked 
by  an  officer  in  the  presence  of  the  brothers,  "  What  news  ? 
Shall  we  take  the  city?"  ''I  fear  not,"  replied  Sheridan,  '^  but 
we  have  made  glorious  havoc  of  the  property  round  about. 
I   witnessed  yesterday  the   destruction   of  an  elegant  estabhsh- 


"^iVyo!^']  DEPREDATIONS    IN    SOUTH    CAROLINA.  275 

ment  belonging  to  an  arch-rebel,  who,  luckily  for  himself,  was 
absent.  You  would  have  been  delighted  to  see  how  quickly 
the  pine-apples  were  shared  among  our  men,  and  how  rapidly 
his  trees  and  ornamental  shrubs  were  leveled  with  the  dust." 
Mr.  John  Gibbes,  who  recognized  his  own  place  in  this  de- 
scription, could  not  restrain  his  indignation,  and,  fearless  of 
consequences,  exclaimed,  ''  I  hope  that  the  Almighty  will  cause 
the  arm  of  the  scoundrel  who  struck  the  first  blow  to  wither  to 
the  shoulder."  Sheridan  uttered  a  threatening  retort,  but  his 
commanding  officer,  who  divined  the  truth,  advised  him  for  his 
own  credit  to  be  silent.  Mr.  Gibbes  so  seriously  felt  the  outrage 
and  the  loss  that  he  retired  to  his  bed  and  never  rose  again.  Not 
long  afterward  the  whole  family  was  ordered  to  leave,  fire  having 
been  opened  upon  the  house  and  neighboring  encampment  from 
some  Charleston  galleys,  which  had  quietly  ascended  the  river. 
It  was  midnight,  dark  and  rainy.  Mr.  Gibbes,  who  was  ill,, 
started  out  with  his  large  household  for  an  adjoining  plantation. 
When  out  of  reach  of  the  pelting  shot,  they  halted  for  a  moment 
to  see  if  all  were  present.  To  their  dismay,  they  found  that  one 
little  boy — a  distant  relative — had  been  left  behind.  The  servants 
were  entreated  to  return  for  him,  but  utterly  refused.  Miss 
Mary  Anna  Gibbes,  a  young  girl  of  thirteen,  resolutely  under- 
took the  mission,  ran  the  long  mile  through  the  rain  and  darkness, 
obtained,  by  many  tears  and  pleadings,  an  admission  to  the  house^ 
secured  the  babe,  and  carried  him  in  her  arms  through  a  storm 
of  grape  and  round  shot,  which  frequently  covered  her  person 
with  dirt  as  they  struck  the  ground  at  her  side,  safe  to  the  retreat 
of  her  family.  The  boy  thus  saved  became  the  gallant  Lieuten- 
ant-Colonel Fenwick,  distinguished  in  the  war  of  1812. 

Washington's  army  passed  the  winter  in  a  line  of  positions 
extending  from  the  Highlands  to  the  Delaware.  Clinton's  in- 
structions permitted  only  a  series  of  predatory  excursions,  and 
little  was  attempted  on  either  side.  Signals  were  devised  to  give 
warning  when  the  British  parties  left  New  York.  On  Battle  Hill, 
sentinels  were  placed,  with  orders  by  day  to  fire  a  big  gun 
familiarly  called  the  "  Old  Sow,"  and  at  night  to  kindle  a  beacon. 
These  signals,  repeated  from  hill  to  hill,  quickly  spread  the  alarm 
through  the  country. 

One  day  in  March,  General  Putnam,  while  shaving  at  his 
headquarters  at  Horse  Neck,  saw  in  his  mirror  the  reflection  of  a 
body  of  British  coming  up  the  road.  Changing  his  razor  for  a 
18 


274  FIFTH   YEAR   OF  THE   REVOLUTION.  ['^^f779."'^* 

swofd,  he  darted  out,  mounted  his  horse,  and  gathered  his  men 
upon  a  hill  near  by  to  resist  their  advance.  The  overwhelming 
forces  of  the  enemy  at  length  compelled  him  to  flee.  Ordering  his 
troops  to  scatter  into  a  neighboring  swamp,  he  spurred  his  own 
horse  over  a  precipice  and  descended  a  zigzag  path,  where  the 
British  dragoons  did  not  dare  to  follow.  Tryon,  who  was  in 
command  of  the  English,  plundered  the  neighboring  people, 
destroyed  the  salt  works,  and  then  retreated  to  King's  Bridge. 
But  the  irrepressible  Putnam  was  after  him,  and  on  the  way 
recovered  most  of  the  booty. 

During  Prevost's  plundering  raid  in  South  Carolina,  General 
Matthews  was  sent  from  New  York  to  Virginia  on  a  similar  expe- 
dition. He  cast  anchor  in  Hampton  Roads  May  9th.  Predatory 
parties  ascended  the  James  and  the  Elizabeth  Rivers.  Ports- 
mouth and  Norfolk — the  latter  just  recovering  from  its  destruc- 
tion by  Dunmore — was  seized,  and  the  inhabitants  brutally 
maltreated.  One  hundred  and  thirty  vessels  were  captured. 
Plantations  were  pillaged  and  the  buildings  fired.  Every  house 
save  one  in  Suffolk  county  was  burned.  Matthews  returned  to 
New  York  with  a  rich  booty,  consisting  in  part  of  three  thousand 
hogsheads  of  tobacco.  He  had  inflicted  a  damage  of  two  million 
dollars,  without  advancing  the  royal  cause  in  any  sense. 

On  the  return  of  this  expedition,  Clinton  ascended  the  Hud- 
son and  captured  the  works  at  Stony  Point  and  Verplanck's 
Point,  which  guarded  King's  Ferry.  The  American  army  had 
now  no  means  of  communication  between  New  England  and  the 
Middle  States  below  the  Highlands. 

Connecticut  was  next  to  feel  the  heavy  hand  of  the  invader. 
On  the  evening  of  the  4th  of  July,  the  inhabitants  of  New  Haven 
were  startled  by  the  appearance  of  a  fleet  in  the  bay.  Early  the 
next  morning,  troops  were  rapidly  landed.  Tryon  was  again  out 
with  his  royalists  and  Hessians  on  their  favorite  work.  They 
were  soon  busy  at  plunder.  The  militia,  however,  rallied  and 
drove  off  the  marauding  bands  both  here  and  at  East  Haven.  Dr« 
Daggett,  ex-president  of  Yale  College,  was  barbarously  mal- 
treated while  resisting  the  advance  of  the  enemy.  When  threat- 
eningly asked  if  he  *'  would  take  up  arms  again,"  he  bravely 
answered,  "  I  rather  think  I  shall  if  I  get  an  opportunity."  Fair- 
field, Norwalk,  and  Greenwich  were  next  visited,  pillaged,  and 
burned.  Tryon  boasted  of  his  clemency  in  sparing  a  single 
house.     Unarmed  men  were  brutally  murdered.     Females  were 


July  16,-1 
1779.  J 


CAPTURE    OF    STONY    POINT. 


275 


insulted.  For  days  afterward,  women,  half  frantic  with  grief  and 
fear,  were  found  wandering  through  the  neighboring  woods. 
The  expedition  was  preparing  to  make  a  descent  on  New  London 
when  it  was  recalled  by  General  Wayne's  famous  exploit  at 
Stony  Point. 

Washington  looked  with  an  envious  eye  on  the  British  pos- 
session of  Stony  Point,  and  had  resolved  upon  its  recapture. 
Upon  making  known  his  wishes  to  Wayne,  that  general  re- 
plied, *'  I  will  storm  h — 1  if  you  will  only  lay  the  plan."      The 


GIVING  THE   COUNTERSIGN   AT  STONY  POINT. 


fort  was  on  an  eminence,  washed  on  three  sides  by  the  river,  the 
fourth  being  protected  by  a  marsh  that  was  overflowed  at  flood- 
tide.  The  only  hope  lay  in  a  surprise.  Twelve  hundred  men 
were  selected,  and  marched  through  swamps  until  within  a  mile 
and  a  half  of  the  enemy,  where  they  were  concealed.  The  coun- 
tersign, which,  curiously  enough,  was  "  The  fort  is  ours,"  was 
obtained  of  a  negro  who  was  in  the  habit  of  selling  strawberries 
at  the  fort.  He  guided  the  troops  in  the  darkness  to  the  causeway 
leading  over  the  flooded  marsh  around  the  foot  of  the  hill.  The 
unsuspicious  sentinel,  having  received  the  countersign,  was 
chatting  with  the  negro,  when  he  was  suddenly  seized  and 
gagged   by  two    soldiers   dressed   as    farmers.       Wayne's    men 


2/6  FIFTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [^"7^79?' 

passed  over  the  causeway  and  reached  the  base  of  the  hill  undis- 
covered, where  they  seized  the  second  sentinel  in  the  same  man- 
ner. Forming  in  two  columns,  with  unloaded  muskets  and  fixed 
bayonets,  just  after  midnight  they  commenced  the  ascent  of  the 
steep  and  rugged  slope.  A  forlorn  hope  of  twenty  men  pre- 
ceded each  to  remove  the  abattis.  They  had  nearly  reached  the 
picket  before  they  were  discovered.  Fire  was  at  once  opened 
upon  them.  Wayne  was  wounded,  but  commanded  his  aids  to 
carry  him  that  he  might  die  at  the  head  of  his  column.  The  rush 
of  his  men  was  irresistible.  An  instant  more,  and  a  deafening 
shout  told  that  the  fort  was  won.  Both  columns  reached  the 
centre  of  the  works  at  nearly  the  same  time.  The  British  lost  in 
killed  and  prisoners  six  hundred  and  six  men,  and  the  Ameri- 
cans but  ninety-eight.  Even  English  authorities  agree  that  the 
Americans  did  not  take  the  life  of  a  man  except  in  fair  fight.  On 
account  of  the  vicinity  of  the  main  army  under  Clinton,  Washing- 
ton ordered  the  fort  to  be  evacuated.  The  stores  were  all  re- 
moved and  the  works  razed  to  the  ground. 

August  19th,  Major  Henry  Lee  rivaled  this  brilliant  exploit 
of  Wayne's  by  the  capture  of  Paulus  Hook,  now  Jersey  City,  in 
sight  of  New  York,  and  almost  in  range  of  its  guns.  Reaching 
the  neighborhood  of  the  fort  before  daylight,  his  detachment  was 
mistaken  by  the  sentinel  for  a  foraging  party  and  allowed  to  pass. 
The  Americans  were  inside  the  works  before  the  garrison  was 
fairly  awake.  Major  Sutherland,  the  commander  of  the  post, 
threw  himself  with  sixty  Hessians  into  a  block-house  and  opened 
fire ;  but  Lee  had  no  time  for  an  assault,  as  alarm-guns  began 
already  to  be  heard.  Collecting  one  hundred  and  fifty -nine  pris- 
oners, he  retired  as  rapidly  as  he  had  come.  Lee  received  a  gold 
medal  from  Congress  for  this  feat. 

While  everything  under  Washington's  immediate  eye  was 
thus  favorable,  an  expedition  sent  out  by  Massachusetts  against 
the  British  at  Fort  Castine,  on  the  Penobscot,  proved  a  total  and 
disgraceful  failure.  It  consisted  of  nineteen  vessels,  carrying 
over  three  hundred  guns,  and  twenty-four  transports,  bearing 
one  thousand  men.  It  reached  its  destination  July  25th.  Delays 
followed.  Finally  a  British  fleet  dispersed  the  naval  forces,  when 
the  land  troops  were  glad  to  make  their  way  home  through  the 
wilderness  as  best  they  could. 

The  continued  Indian  and  tory  atrocities  in  the  Wyoming  and 
Mohawk  valleys  threatened  to  depopulate  these  fertile  regions. 


^"Cf)!.^]  THE    BATTLE    OF    CHEMUNG.  2// 

It  was  now  felt  that  such  a  punishment  must  be  inflicted  upon 
the  Six  Nations  as  would  deter  them  from  further  incursions. 
General  Sullivan  accordingly  organized  for  this  purpose  a  force 
of  about  three  thousand  men.  Late  in  August  he  moved  north- 
ward from  Wyoming,  the  artillery  and  stores  being  drawn  up  the 
Susquehanna  in  one  hundred  and  fifty  boats.  At  Tioga  he  was 
joined  by  General  Clinton  with  one  thousand  New  York  troops. 
The  latter  had  marched  from  Albany,  up  the  Mohawk  to  Canajo- 
harie,  and  thence  ascending  Canajoharie  Creek,  had  reached  Ot- 
sego Lake.  Finding  the  water  of  the  outlet  too  low  to  float  his 
bateaux,  he  built  a  dam  across  the  stream,  by  which  the  lake  was 
raised  several  feet.  When  the  dam  was  cut,  the  boats  glided 
easily  down  to  Tioga  upon  the  rushing  water.  The  Indians  fled 
in  dismay  at  the  sight  of  a  flood  in  the  midst  of  the  summer 
drought,  believing  it  a  signal  proof  of  the  displeasure  of  the  Great 
Spirit. 

On  the  26th,  the  combined  forces  ascended  the  Chemung, 
an  Indian  word  for  Big  Horn.  Sullivan  carefully  provided 
against  the  danger  of  a  surprise.  Large  flanking  parties  were 
thrown  on  each  side  of  the  line  of  march,  and  strong  guards  were 
in  front  and  rear.  Reaching  a  place  called  Hog's  Back,  they  found 
the  Indians  under  Brandt,  Corn-Planter,  and  Red  Jacket,  and  the 
tories  under  Sir  John  Johnson  and  the  Butlers,  awaiting  their  ap- 
proach. They  were  about  eight  hundred  in  all,  and  occupied  a 
strong  position.  Their  left  rested  on  the  hill  and  their  right  on  a 
ridge  running  parallel  with  the  river.  They  had  regular  entrench- 
ments thrown  up  nearly  half  a  mile  in  length,  and  were  also 
protected  by  the  pines  and  shrub-oaks  covering  the  ground. 
The  works  were  artfully  concealed  by  green  boughs  planted  in 
front.  Sullivan  at  once  ordered  General  Hand  and  the  rifle 
corps  to  attack  in  front,  while  Generals  Poor  and  Clinton,  with 
their  brigades,  cleared  the  hill  on  the  Indian  left.  This  was  done 
in  fine  style.  The  savages,  leaping  from  tree  to  tree  and  rock 
to  rock,  though  greatly  alarmed  by  the  fire  of  the  artillery,  dis- 
puted every  inch  ;  while  Brandt,  animating  his  followers,  ranged 
the  field  like  a  very  demon.  Night  was  coming  on,  and  the 
assaulting  columns  seemed  to  falter  for  a  moment.  Then,  as  the 
legend  says,  there  hovered  above  them,  amid  the  smoke  of  the 
battle,  the  vision  of  a  mother  clasping  her  babe  in  her  bosom  and 
shielding  it  from  an  uplifted  tomahawk.  The  troops  instantly, 
as  if  by  an  inspiration,  dashed  forward.     Poor  and  Clinton  swept 


2/8  FIFTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  l'^jfg\ 

the  hill  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet.  Brandt,  despairing,  raised 
the  shrill  cry,  "  Oonah  !  Oonah !  "  and  the  whole  body  fled  in  con- 
fusion. The  Americans,  in  spite  of  the  desperation  of  the  Iro- 
quois, lost  only  five  or  six  men  and  fifty  wounded. 

The  Indians,  satisfied  that  they  could  not  resist  this  powerful 
force,  gave  up  in  despair.  Sullivan,  marching  up  the  river  about 
seven  miles,  came  to  an  Indian  village  called  Conewawah — an 
Iroquois  term  meaning  a-head-on-a-pole — afterward  the  site  of  a 
settlement  known  as  Newtown,  and  now  Elmira.  This  he  de- 
stroyed, and  thence  proceeded  to  Queen  Catharine's  Town,  now 
Havana,  near  the  head  of  Seneca  Lake. 

The  Senecas  and  the  Cayugas  had  regularly-laid-out  villages, 
and  lived  in  framed  houses,  many  of  them  painted  and  hav- 
ing chimneys.  Their  fields  were  large  and  fruitful,  especially  in 
the  Genesee  Valley,  and  were  covered  with  orchards  of  apple, 
pear  and  peach  trees.  "  At  Wyoming,  no  mercy  was  shown  but 
the  hatchet;  here,  none  but  the  firebrand."  The  army  marched 
resistlessly  to  and  fro  through  the  whole  country  from  the  Che- 
mung to  the  Genesee,  destroying  their  waving  fields  of  maize, 
ruining  their  orchards  and  burning  their  villages.  The  Christian 
emulated  the  savage  in  the  barbarity  of  war.  Kanadaseagea,  now 
Geneva,  the  capital  of  the  Senecas  ;  Schoyere,  near  Cayuga  Lake ; 
Kanandaigua,  a  town  at  the  head  of  the  beautiful  lake  by  the 
same  name ;  and  Honeoye,  were  all  destroyed  without  resistance. 

When  the  army  entered  the  Valley  of  the  Genesee,  the  In- 
dians, having  hidden  their  women  and  children  in  the  forest,  were 
lying  in  wait  on  the  flats  toward  the  head  of  Connissius  Lake  ;  but 
the  vanguard  of  the  invading  force  put  them  to  flight.  Approach- 
ing Little  Beard's  town.  Lieutenant  Boyd  was  sent  forward  with 
a  party  to  reconnoitre.  While  on  his  return  he  fell  into  an  am- 
bush prepared  by  Brandt  and  his  warriors.  Nearly  all  Boyd's 
men  were  killed ;  he  was  taken  and  put  to  death  with  cruel  tor- 
tures. Thence  Sullivan  spread  his  troops  wide  over  the  smiling 
valley,  laying  waste  magnificent  fields  of  grain,  destroying  forty 
towns — among  them  Genesee,  the  capital  of  the  Six  Nations — and 
leaving  only  a  blackened  waste  of  all  that  beautiful  region.  It  was 
expected  that  he  would  push  westward  and  destroy  the  English 
fort  at  Niagara,  which  was  the  very  focus  of  Indian  and  British 
intrigue ;  but  he  had  moved  so  slowly  that  he  was  compelled  to 
return  without  accomplishing  this  greatly  desired  result.  Just 
before  reaching  the  Chemung  again,  forage  gave  out,  and  Sulli- 


i 


^fi^;]  ATTACK  UPON  SAVANNAH.  279 

van  ordered  several  hundred  horses  to  be  killed.      This  equine 
Golgotha  has  since  retained  the  name  of  Horse-Heads. 

The  Six  Nations  were  subdued  for  the  moment;  but  their 
bitter  hatred  was  aroused,  and  they  swore  vengeance  against 
Washington,  whom  they  styled  the  Town-destroyer.  Yet,  singu- 
larly, their  veneration  for  him  was  never  lessened.  According  to 
their  belief,  no  white  man  except  Washington  ever  reached 
heaven.  Their  legends  represent  him  as  occupying  a  fort-like 
mansion  at  the  gate  of  the  happy  hunting-grounds.  He  walks  in 
full  uniform  to  and  fro,  in  '*  meditation,  fancy  free,"  and  the  faithful 
Indians  see  him,  but  always  pass  in  respectful  silence. 

On  the  first  of  September,  the  French  fleet  of  twenty  ships- 
of-the-line,  under  d'Estaing,  appeared  off  the  coast  of  Georgia. 
A  combined  attack  upon  Savannah  was  now  arranged  with  Lin- 
coln. The  militia  of  South  Carolina  turned  out  with  alacrity, 
and  Washington  despatched  several  North  Carolina  regiments 
for  this  service.  The  combined  forces,  however,  were  not  able  to 
commence  operations  till  the  23d,  although  the  French  had  already 
landed  and  summoned  Prevost  to  surrender.  The  British  had 
thoroughly  improved  the  delay,  called  in  their  forces,  thrown  up 
entrenchments,  and  were  well  prepared  for  defence.  Two  weeks 
of  bombardment  from  the  trenches  and  the  shipping  followed, 
without  any  marked  result.  D'Estaing  became  impatient.  The 
autumnal  gales  were  approaching ;  his  fleet  lay  off  the  open 
coast,  and  delays  were  full  of  peril.  On  October  8th  it  was  de- 
cided that  the  next  day  should  witness  an  assault.  It  was  gal- 
lantly executed,  but  was  a  failure  almost  from  the  start.  A  col- 
umn under  Count  Dillon  was  to  have  fallen  on  the  English  rear ; 
but,  becoming  entangled  in  the  swamp,  it  was  beaten  back  by  the 
enemy's  guns  without  attempting  an  attack.  The  French  and 
American  columns  reached  the  works  in  front  under  a  heavy  fire, 
the  former  planting  a  banner  on  the  parapet.  Lieutenants  Bush 
and  Hume,  of  the  second  South  Carolina  regiment,  leaped  to  the 
top  with  the  colors  given  to  them  at  Fort  Moultrie.  Both  officers 
were  killed.  Sergeant  Jasper,  springing  to  their  help,  fell  mor- 
tally wounded.  In  his  dying  moments,  he  managed  to  creep 
away  with  the  banner  he  had  sworn  to  protect.  Laurens  him- 
self, struggling  in  the  thickest  of  the  fight,  in  despair  at  the 
retreat  of  his  men,  threw  away  his  sword,  and,  stretching  out  his 
hands,  it  is  said,  "  prayed  for  death."  Pulaski,  carrying  a  banner 
placed  in  his  hands  by  the  Moravian  nuns,  was  struck  down  by  a 


:28o  FIFTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  {^ffjg: 

cannon-ball,  at  the  head  of  his  legion.  D'Estaing  was  twice 
wounded.  A  dashing  charge  of  grenadiers  and  marines  from  the 
city  now  drove  the  assailants  back  to  their  lines.  The  Americans 
had  lost  in  this  fruitless  enterprise  over  four  hundred,  and  the 
French  about  six  hundred  men,  while  the  British  had  suffered  but 
slightly.  D'Estaing  immediately  sailed  away.  Lincoln  retired 
to  Charleston  with  what  he  could  save  of  his  army,  and  the 
militia  scattered  to  their  homes  or  took  to  the  swamps. 

While  the  French-American  army  was  thus  unsuccessfully 
engaged  in  the  siege  of  Savannah,  Colonel  White  of  Georgia 
achieved  a  feat  which  borders  on  the  marvelous.  Learning 
that  Captain  French  and  a  party  of  British  regulars,  with  five 
vessels,  four  of  which  were  armed,  one  carrying  fourteen  guns, 
were  on  the  Ogeechee,  about  twenty-five  miles  below  the  city, 
he  determined  to  attempt  their  capture.  He  had  only  a  captain 
and  three  soldiers.  He  lighted  many  fires  in  the  woods,  so 
as  to  give  the  appearance  of  a  camp.  To  complete  the  strata- 
gem, he  then,  accompanied  by  his  four  companions,  rode  hither 
and  thither,  after  the  manner  of  a  general  and  his  staff,  inspecting 
his  lines  and  giving  his  orders.  The  English  officer  was  next 
summoned  to  capitulate.  Thinking  himself  about  to  be  attacked 
by  a  great  body  of  the  enemy,  French  surrendered  his  detach- 
ment, ships,  and  crews  (October  ist).  White  now  pretended 
that  he  must  keep  his  men  in  the  camp,  in  orcier  to  restrain  their 
fury,  and  prevent  an  indiscriminate  slaughter  of  the  prisoners. 
He  therefore  delivered  French  and  his  party  into  the  hands  of 
three  guides,  who  would  conduct  them  to  a  place  of  safety.  They 
had  orders  to  move  off  as  rapidly  as  possible.  Meanwhile, 
White,  who  had  stayed  behind  to  "  bring  up  the  main  body," 
hastened  into  the  country  with  his  remaining  soldier,  quickly 
collected  a  force  of  militia,  and  finally  overtook  his  captives,  who 
were  proceeding  along  comfortably  under  the  care  of  his  guides, 
and  were  full  of  thankfulness  for  his  merciful  consideration. 

No  American  successes  caused  more  annoyance  to  the  British 
than  those  of  the  navy.  In  1775,  Washington  sent  out  several 
vessels  to  cruise  along  the  New  England  coast  as  privateers.  In 
the  same  year  Congress  established  a  naval  department.  Thir- 
teen ships  were  ordered  to  be  fitted  out  and  two  battalions  of 
seamen  enlisted.  So  anxious  was  the  American  government,  that 
Washington  was  forced  to  divide  his  scanty  store  of  supplies  with 
the  newly-fledged  fleet.      Swift-sailing  vessels,  manned  by  bold 


Sept.  23, 


pt.  23,-1 
1779.     J 


CAPTURE    OF    THE    SERAPIS. 


281 


seamen,  soon  infested  every  avenue  of  commerce.  Within  three 
years  they  captured  five  hundred  ships.  They  even  cruised 
among  the  British  Isles,  and,  entering  the  harbors,  seized  and 
burned  ships  lying  at  English  wharves. 

Paul  Jones  was  among  the  most  famous  of  these  naval  heroes. 
In  six  weeks  he  is  said  to  have  taken  sixteen  prizes.  While 
cruising  off  England,  Septem- 
ber, 1779,  in  the  forty-gun  ship 
Bon  Homme  Richard,  named 
in  honor  of  the  Poor  Richard 
of  Franklin's  Almanac,  he  came 
across  the  Serapis,  carrying  forty- 
four  guns.  Jones  at  once  laid 
his  vessel  alongside.  Twice  the 
ships  fell  afoul  each  other.     The 


CAPTURE    OF   THE   SERAPIS   BY   THE    BON    HOMME   RICHARD. 


first  time,  the  Serapis  hailed  the  Richard,  asking  if  she  had 
"  struck  her  colors."  "  I  have  not  yet  begun  to  fight,"  was  Jones's 
reply.  The  second  time,  with  his  own  hands  he  aided  in  lashing 
the  vessels  together.  For  two  hours  longer  the  crews  fought 
hand  to  hand,  with  musket,  pike,  and  cutlass.     The  muzzles  of  the 


282 


FIFTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 


rSept.  2 
L     1779. 


23. 


guns  touched,  and  the  gunners,  in  working  their  pieces,  often 
thrust  their  ramrods  into  the  port-holes  of  the  other  ship.  The 
Bon  Homme  was  old  and  rotten,  and  soon  became  almost  un- 
manageable. Water  poured  into  the  hold.  Only  three  of  the 
guns  could  be  worked.  The  ship  was  really  beaten,  and  only  the 
stout  heart  of  Jones  held  out.  Three  times  both  vessels  were  on 
fire.  At  last,  sailors  on  the  yards  of  the  Bon  Homme  dropped 
hand-grenades  down  the  hatchway  of  the  Serapis.  An  explo- 
sion ensued ;  twenty  men  were  blown  to  pieces,  and  forty  were 
disabled.  The  Serapis  thereupon  struck  her  colors.  The  Bon 
Homme  was  already  sinking,  and  Jones  transferred  his  men  to 
the  captured  frigate. 

At  this  time,  Jones  was  in  command  of  five  vessels — the  Bon 
Homme  Richard,  Pallas,  Cerf,  Vengeance,  and  Alliance.  All  ex- 
cept the  last  were  French  ships.  The  Serapis,  with  her  consort, 
the  Countess  of  Scarborough,  was  convoying  a  fleet  of  merchant- 
men. During  this  desperate  duel,  the  Pallas  had  fought  the  Scar- 
borough, taking  her  just  after  the  Serapis  surrendered.  But  the 
other  vessels  offered  no  help.  So  far  from  that,  the  Alliance,  Cap- 
tain Landis,  repeatedly  fired  into  the  Richard,  with  the  hope  of 
compelling  Jones  to  capitulate,  that  Landis  might  have  the  credit 
of  retaking  the  Richard  and  capturing  the  Serapis. 


THE   DECATUR   MONUMENT. 


CHAPTER  VII 


SIXTH  YEA(k  OF  THE  fREVOLUTIOJ^—ijSo. 


HE  nardships  of  the  camp  at  Val- 
ley Forge  are  proverbial ;  but 
the  winter  of  1779-80,  in  the  huts 
at  Morristown,  witnessed,  if  pos- 
sible, greater  misery.  The  cold 
set  in  early  this  year,  and  the 
winter  was  the  severest  of  the 
eighteenth  century.  The  want 
of  bread  and  meat  and  the  lack 
of  clothing  form  the  burden  of 
the  same  old,  sad  story  of  priva- 
tion and  suffering.  Continental 
money  had  been  issued  by  Con- 
gress to  the  amount  of  two  hundred  million  dollars.  It  was  now 
so  much  depreciated  that  forty  dollars  in  bills  were  worth  only 
one  dollar  in  specie.  A  pair  of  boots  cost  six  hundred  dollars  in 
these  paper  promises.  A  soldier's  pay  for  a  month  would  hardly 
buy  him  a  dinner.  To  make  the  matter  worse,  the  British  had 
flooded  the  country  with  counterfeits,  which  could  not  be  told 
from  the  genuine.  Many  persons  entirely  refused  to  take  Con- 
tinental money.  The  sufferings  of  the  soldiers,  and  the  difficulty 
of  procuring  supplies,  may  be  readily  imagined. 

Washington,  though  with  great  reluctance,  was  forced  to 
make  requisitions  upon  the  surrounding  country.  To  the  honor 
of  the  loyal  people  of  Jersey  be  it  remembered  that,  in  this  hour 
of  gloom,  they  bore  these  exactions  with  patriotic  submission. 
More  than  that,  many  of  the  farmers  voluntarily  sent  in  provi- 
sions, shoes,  coats,  and  blankets ;  while  the  women  met  together 
to  knit  stockings  and  to  sew  for  the  needy  troops.  One  Anna 
Kitchel,  wife  of  a  Whippany  farmer,  was  foremost  in  good  deeds. 


284  SIXTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.      [March  3l-Apnl  14, 

^'  Her  potato  bin,  meal  bag,  and  granary  had  always  some  comfort 
for  the  patriot  soldiers.  When  unable  to  billet  them  in  her  house, 
a  huge  kettle,  filled  with  meat  and  vegetables,  constantly  hung 
over  the  fire,  that  no  one  might  go  away  hungry." 

Such  patriotism,  however,  was  not  general  throughout  the 
country.  Discouraged  by  the  length  of  the  war,  the  apathy  of 
which  we  have  already  spoken  became  even  deeper  than  before. 
In  this  extremity,  Washington  declared  that  he  had  "almost 
ceased  to  hope,"  and  that  friends  and  foes  seemed  to  be  combin- 
ing to  pull  down  the  fabric  raised  at  so  much  expense  of  time, 
blood,  and  treasure.  The  best  men  no  longer  went  to  Congress, 
and  in  that  body  onl}^  fifteen  or  twenty  persons  transacted  the 
most  important  business.  Its  councils  were  consequently  scarcely 
heeded,  and  its  authority  was  openly  disregarded.  The  national 
power,  divided  among  thirteen  States,  was  fast  sinking  to  its 
lowest  ebb — this,  too,  at  a  time  when  the  final  conquest  of  the 
United  States  by  Great  Britain  was  scarcely  expected,  even  by 
the  most  sanguine  friends  of  the  crown. 

On  the  day  after  Christmas,  Clinton  set  sail  from  New  York 
for  an  attack  upon  Charleston.  After  a  tempestuous  voyage,  he 
reached  North  Edisto  Sound,  February  loth.  Governor  Rut- 
ledge  and  General  Lincoln  were  indefatigable  in  their  efforts  to 
fortify  the  city.  Clinton  advanced  with  great  caution,  and  it  was 
not  till  the  31st  of  March  that  he  sat  down,  with  ten  thousand 
men,  before  the  American  works  on  Charleston  Neck.  The  loth 
of  April,  he  completed  his  first  parallel,  and  summoned  the  city 
to  surrender.  Meanwhile,  the  English  fleet  had  safely  crossed  the 
bar,  passed  Fort  Moultrie,  and  was  anchored  in  the  harbor. 
Lincoln,  however,  influenced  by  the  entreaties  of  the  inhabitants, 
decided  to  remain  with  his  army,  although  the  capture  of  the  city 
was  a  foregone  conclusion.  He  therefore  replied  to  Clinton  that 
both  duty  and  inclination  moved  him  to  defend  his  post  to  the 
last  extremity.  It  was  a  useless  attempt.  Fort  Moultrie  surren- 
dered without  a  shot.  The  English  pushed  their  works  vigor- 
ously. 

As  yet,  Lincoln  had  kept  up  his  communication  with  the  coun- 
try across  the  Cooper  River.  But  on  the  night  of  April  14th, 
Tarleton  fell  upon  General  Huger,  who  was  encamped,  with  fif- 
teen hundred  cavalry,  at  Monk's  Corner,  and  put  him  to  flight. 
The  patriots,  after  this  discomfiture,  retired  north  of  the  Santee. 
Lieutenant-Colonel   White,   who   took  command,   afterward    re- 


*^i%o;~\  SURRENDER  OF  CHARLESTON.  285 

crossed  that  river,  in  order  to  attack  a  British  foraging  party. 
Ere  he  could  get  back,  Tarleton  was  upon  him  with  his  terrible 
dragoons,  and,  at  the  ford  of  the  Santee,  repeated  the  catastrophe 
of  Monk's  Comer. 

Charleston  was  now  entirely  surrounded.  All  hope  of  aid  or 
retreat  was  cut  off,  and,  May  12th,  the  city,  with  its  garrison,  was 
surrendered.  By  counting  soldiers,  citizens,  old  and  infirm, 
tories  and  whigs  alike,  Clinton  made  out  five  thousand  paroled 
prisoners.  A  carnival  of  plunder  ensued.  Slaves  were  seized ; 
even  those  who  came  voluntarily  into  the  English  lines  being  sent 
to  the  West  Indies.  A  major-general's  share  of  the  booty,  we 
are  told,  was  five  thousand  guineas. 

Expeditions  were  rapidly  sent  out  to  overrun  the  entire  coun- 
try ;  one  up  the  Savannah  to  Augusta,  another  up  the  Santee 
toward  Ninety-Six,  and  a  third  toward  Camden.  The  advance 
of  the  last  under  Tarleton,  May  29th,  at  Waxhaw  Creek,  over- 
took a  regiment  of  Virginians  under  Colonel  Buford,  who  was 
retreating  into  North  Carolina,  after  the  fall  of  Charleston.  The 
Americans  offered  to  surrender  ;  but  Tarleton  rejected  the  terms, 
and,  while  the  patriots  were  still  hesitating,  fell  upon  them  with 
the  sword.  No  quarter  was  given.  One  hundred  and  thirteen 
were  killed,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  so  brutally  maimed  that 
they  could  not  be  moved.  "  This  bloody  day  only  wanted,"  says 
Lee,  in  his  Memoirs,  "  the  war-dance  and  the  roasting-fire,  to  have 
placed  it  first  in  the  records  of  torture  and  death."  Henceforth 
"  Tarleton's  quarter  "  was  proverbial. 

The  inhabitants  now  flocked  in  from  all  parts  to  meet  the 
royal  army  and  resume  their  ancient  allegiance.  On  every  side 
were  heard  cries  of  submission  and  loyalty.  Clinton  wrote 
home  that  "  South  Carolina  was  English  again."  Thinking  that 
he  could  deal  with  the  State  as  a  royal  province,  by  his  famous 
proclamation  of  June  3d,  he  ordered  that  all,  even  the  paroled 
prisoners,  should  be  henceforth  considered  as  liege  subjects  of 
Great  Britain.  The  entire  male  population  was  to  be  enrolled  in 
the  militia  ;  the  men  over  forty  being  liable  to  be  called  upon 
only  in  case  of  invasion,  while  those  under  that  age  were  to  serve 
six  months  each  year. 

A  Carolinian  taken  in  arms  against  the  king,  was  in  this  way 
made  liable  to  be  tried  as  a  deserter  and  executed.  Relying  upon 
the  promises  of  the  British  commander,  many  had  fondly  hoped 
to  be  allowed  to  remain  at  home  in  peace  during  the  remainder 


286  SIXTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [1780. 

of  the  war.  They  were  now  told  that  they  must  fight,  and  the 
only  question  was  whether  it  should  be  for,  or  against,  theif  native 
country.  By  this  ill-timed  rigor  the  Southern  States,  which 
appeared  reunited  to  the  crown,  were  henceforth  convulsed  with 
civil  war.  Brutal  tories,  having  received  commissions  to  raise 
troops,  roamed  the  country,  insulting,  plundering,  and  even  mur- 
dering those  who  refused  to  join  their  ranks.  Patriots  were  out- 
lawed, and  their  property  was  confiscated.  Delicate  women,  who 
had  been  accustomed  to  every  comfort,  were  despoiled  of  raiment 
and  home,  and  were  glad  to  find  refuge  in  some  hovel  too  mean 
to  excite  the  attention  of  the  enemy.  No  one  could  be  neutral. 
He  who  was  not  in  arms  for  the  king,  was  liable  to  be  assassinated 
in  his  own  home,  even  in  the  presence  of  his  wife  and  little  chil- 
dren. A  merchant  could  not  collect  a  debt,  except  on  taking  an 
oath  of  loyalty.  One  of  Tarleton's  quartermasters  cut  to  pieces 
Samuel  Wyly,  in  his  own  house  near  Camden,  merely  because  he 
had  been  a  volunteer  at  the  siege  of  Charleston.  One  hundred 
and  sixty  of  the  inhabitants  of  Camden  were  sent  to  prison,  and 
twenty  were  loaded  with  chains,  on  their  refusal  to  take  up  arms 
against  their  countrymen.  The  Continentals  captured  at  Charles- 
ton were  sent  to  prison-ships,  where,  in  thirteen  months,  one-third 
of  them  died  of  disease.  Several  hundred  young  men  were  taken 
to  Jamaica,  and  forced  to  serve  in  a  British  regiment.  Gadsden, 
Rutledge,  and  other  devoted  patriots  were  sent  to  St.  Augustine. 

Reports  of  these  and  multitudes  of  similar  outrages,  happening 
month  after  month  for  over  two  long  years  of  British  occupation, 
stirred  the  most  sluggish  hearts.  Patriots,  exiled  from  home, 
took  up  arms,  blacksmiths  forging  their  rude  weapons,  and 
women,  who  gloried  in  the  title  of  **  rebels,"  casting  bullets  for 
them  out  of  the  pewter  utensils  they  sacrificed  from  their  pantry- 
shelves.  The  war  at  the  South  henceforth  assumed  a  character 
unlike  that  which  it  possessed  in  the  North  at  any  point ;  except, 
perhaps,  in  the  sections  exposed  to  Indian  forays,  or  the  so-called 
neutral  ground  along  the  Hudson,  between  the  English  and 
American  lines. 

The  Carolinas,  wild  and  extensive,  cut  up  by  streams,  full  of 
swamps  and  tangled  woods,  and  having  a  mountainous  border  on 
the  west,  were  exactly  fitted  for  a  bush-warfare,  and  became  the 
scene  of  the  most  romantic  adventures  and  hair-breadth  escapes. 
The  inhabitants  were  nearly  equally  divided  in  sentiment,  and 
tories  and  whigs  were  bent  on  each  other's  destruction.      Both 


17S0.]  PARTISAN    WARFARE    IN   THE    CAROLINAS.  287 

sides  organized  partisan  corps,  which  rendezvoused  in  swamps, 
and  sallied  out,  as  occasion  offered,  to  strike  a  sudden  blow,  and 
then  escaped  with  their  plunder  through  by-paths  known  only  to 
themselves.  The  country  was  harried  by  the  continual  passage 
of  these  predatory  bands.  The  raneor  of  the  royalists  provoked 
retaliation ;  rude  justice  was  dealt  on  occasions,  and  the  bitterest 
hatred  was  engendered.  Daring  leaders  arose  whose  names 
carried  terror  to  their  foes  and  gave  strength  to  the  cause  they 
upheld.  On  the  British  side  were  Tarleton  with  his  merciless 
dragoons,  and  Ferguson  with  his  riflemen;  on  the  American, 
were  Sumter,  the  *'  Carolian  Game-cock,**  whom  Lord  Cornwallis 
characterized  as  his  '*  greatest  plague  " ;  Marion,  the  "  Bayard 
of  the  South";  and  the  ever-vigilant  Pickens. 

Dark  and  bloody  deeds,  lit  up  here  and  there  with  a  gleam  of 
kindness  and  faith,  characterize  this  page  of  our  history.  Though 
generally  lightly  touched  upon,  they  greatly  influenced  the  issue 
of  the  contest.  Every  heart  has  been  aroused  in  reading  Bryant's 
Song  of  Marion's  Men,"  those  patriots  "  few,  but  true  and  tried," 
under  a  "  leader  frank  and  bold."  The  very  breath  of  the  forest 
is  caught  in  the  stirring  lines  : 

"Woe  to  the  English  soldiery  that  little  dread  us  near ! 
On  them  shall  light  at  midnight  a  strange  and  sudden  fear ; 
When,  waking  to  their  tents  on  fire,  they  grasp  their  arms  in  vain. 
And  they  who  stand  to  face  us  are  beat  to  earth  again  ; 
And  they  who  fly  in  terror  deem  a  mighty  host  behind. 
And  hear  the  tramp  of  thousands  upon  the  hollow  wind. 


"  Well  knows  the  fair  and  friendly  moon  the  band  that  Marion  leads— 
The  glitter  of  their  rifles,  the  scampering  of  their  steeds. 
'Tis  life  to  guide  the  fiery  barb  across  the  moonlit  plain  ; 
'Tis  life  to  feel  the  night-wind  that  lifts  his  tossing  mane. 
A  moment  in  the  British  camp — a  moment,  and  away 
Back  to  the  pathless  forest  before  the  peep  of  day." 

But  there  is  another  virtue  beside  courage — that  of  endurance. 
Concerning  Marion,  it  has  been  said  that  "  his  simplicity  of  con- 
duct, preserved  under  all  circumstances,  was  above  praise ;  the 
cheerfulness  with  which  he  endured  privations,  surpassed  en- 
comium." At  one  time,  a  British  officer  was  sent  to  negotiate 
some  business  with  him.  When  it  was  concluded,  Marion  po- 
litely invited  him  to  remain  to  dinner — an  invitation  which  the 


288 


SIXTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 


[1780. 


officer,  alieady  charmed  with  Marion's  dignified  simplicity,  gladly 

accepted.      The    repast   consisted   entirely   of  roasted   potatoes, 

served  upon  pieces  of  bark,  and  was  offered  without  apology,  but 

with  the  simple  mention  of  the  old 

adage    that    "  Hunger    is    the    best  .     1  K\  L. 

sauce."      The    British    officer    was 

amazed     at    such    a    meagre     diet. 

''Surely,  general,"  he  said,  ''this 

cannot   be   your   ordinary   fare." 

"  It  is  indeed,"  was  the  quiet 


A  RENDEZVOUS  OF   MARION  AND   HIS   MEN. 


reply ;  "  but  on  this  occasion,  having  the  honor  of  your  company, 
we  are  happy  to  have  more  than  our  usual  allowance."  The 
officer  was  so  affected  by  this  unselfish  patriotism,  especially  as 
he  afterward  learned  that  Marion  served  without  pay,  that,  imme- 
diately upon  his  return,  he  resigned  his  commission,  declaring 
that  it  was  folly  to  fight  against  men  who  showed  such  devotion 
to  their  cause. 

Colonel  Horry  of  Carolina,  who  belonged  to  Marion's  brigade, 
was  another  dauntless  patriot.  He  had  an  impediment  in  his 
speech,  which  greatly  embarrassed  him.      A  ludicrous  story  is 


1780.]  PARTISAN    WARFARE    IN    THE    CAROLINAS.  289 

told  of  him  when,  after  having  waited  some  time  in  ambuscade  to 
attack  a  certain  British  detachment,  he  had  them  at  length  in  his 
power.  The  critical  moment  had  come,  and  he  jumped  to  his 
feet  to  give  the  order  to  fire.  "  Fi-fi-fi-fi-fi — "  his  tongue  would 
go  no  further.  Irritated  almost  to  madness,  he  shouted,  "  Shoot, 
d — n  you — shoot !  shoot !  You  know  very  well  what  I  would  say 
— shoot  and  be  d — d  to  you  !  "  His  own  courage  reacted  upon 
and  inspired  all  who  came  in  contact  with  him.  At  Quimby, 
Colonel  Baxter,  himself  a  brave  soldier,  called  out,  "  Colonel,  I 
am  wounded !  "  "  Never  mind,  Baxter,  stand  to  your  post !  "  was 
the  reply.  "  But  I  can't  stand,  colonel ;  I  am  wounded  a  second 
time !  "  ''  Then  lie  down,  Baxter,  but  don't  quit  your  post." 
"  Colonel,"  cried  the  same  voice,  ''they  have  shot  me  again,  and 
if  I  stay  here  any  longer,  they  will  shoot  me  to  pieces."  "  Be  it 
so,  Baxter,  but  stir  not!  "  was  the  calm  response.  Baxter  obeyed 
the  order,  and  was  actually  wounded  a  fourth  time  before  the 
engagement  was  over. 

One  beautiful  spring  morning,  a  splendidly-dressed  officer, 
accompanied  by  two  aids  and  followed  by  a  score  of  troopers  as  a 
body-guard,  dashed  up  the  avenue  to  a  fine  old  mansion,  on  the 
piazza  of  which  sat  two  ladies  and  a  little  child.  Politely  bowing, 
the  officer  said,  "  Have  I  the  pleasure  of  speaking  to  the  mistress 
of  this  house  ?  "  Being  answered  in  the  affirmative,  and  learning 
that  her  husband  was  absent,  Tarleton,  for  it  was  he,  next  in- 
quired, ''  Is  he  a  rebel  ?  "  "  No,  sir,"  was  the  quick  reply  ;  "  he  is 
in  the  army  of  his  country,  and  fighting  against  our  invaders ; 
therefore,  not  a  rebel."  "  I  fear,  madame,  that  we  differ,"  Tarle- 
ton rejoined ;  ''  a  friend  to  his  country  will  be  a  friend  to  the  king, 
our  master."  '*  Slaves  only  acknowledge  a  master  in  this  coun- 
try," retorted  the  lady,  with  spirit.  An  order  was  at  once  given 
to  quarter  the  troops  on  the  plantation,  and  then,  again  bowing, 
Tarleton  said,  "  Madame,  the  service  of  his  majesty  requires  the 
temporary  occupation  of  your  property,  and,  if  it  will  not  be  too 
great  an  inconvenience,  I  shall  take  up  my  quarters  in  your 
house."  His  tone  was  decisive.  The  lady  simply  responded, 
''  My  family  consists  of  only  myself,  my  sister,  my  child,  and  a 
few  negroes.  We  are  your  prisoners."  A  thousand  soldiers — the 
choicest  of  English  cavalry — were  soon  encamped  upon  the 
grounds.  Lieutenant  Slocumb,  the  owner  of  the  plantation,  was 
at  that  moment,  with  twelve  or  fifteen  recruits,  reconnoitering 
Cornwallis's  encampment,  little  dreaming  that  his  own  beautiful 
19 


290  SIXTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [1780. 

home  was  invaded.  Mrs.  Slocumb  prepared  an  ample  dinner  for 
her  uninvited  guests.  They  especially  enjoyed  her  excellent 
peach-brandy.  Learning  that  it  was  the  product  of  the  plantation 
orchard,  an  Irish  captain  said,  "  Colonel,  when  we  conquer  this 
country,  is  it  not  to  be  divided  amongst  us  ?  "  ''  Undoubtedly 
the  officers  will  receive  large  possessions  of  the  subjugated  prov- 
inces/' was  the  reply.  ''  Allow  me  to  observe,"  interposed  Mrs. 
Slocumb,  "  that  the  only  land  any  British  officer  will  ever  hold  in 
this  country  will  measure  but  six  feet  by  two."  "  Excuse  me, 
madame,"  replied  Tarleton ;  ^*  for  your  sake  I  regret  to  say  it, 
but  this  beautiful  plantation  will  probably  be  a  ducal  seat  for 
some  of  us."  The  lady's  eyes  flashed.  "  Do  not  trouble  yourself 
about  me,"  she  retorted ;  *'  my  husband  is  able  to  make  this 
anything  but  a  quiet  seat  for  a  duke  or  even  a  king."  At  this 
moment,  a  rapid  volley  of  firearms  resounded  from  the  wood  near 
at  hand. 

Mrs.  Slocumb,  who  had  been  in  an  agony  of  anxiety  lest  the 
lieutenant  should  return,  and,  unawares,  fall  into  the  enemy's 
hands,  had,  immediately  on  their  arrival,  despatched  an  old  negro 
with  a  bag  of  corn  to  a  mill  on  the  road  her  husband  must  travel, 
charging  him  to  tell  his  master  of  the  danger.  But  '*  Big 
George,"  with  the  indolence  and  curiosity  incident  to  his  race, 
had  not  yet  left  the  hedge-row,  behind  which  he  was  admiring  the 
British  red-coats,  shining  helmets,  and  dashing  plumes.  By 
adroit  remarks,  Mrs.  Slocumb  had  also  contrived  to  impress 
Tarleton  with  the  idea  that  there  was  a  large  number  of  Amer- 
ican troops  in  the  vicinity.  "  You  would  not,  of  course,  be  sur- 
prised at  a  call  from  Lee,"  she  observed,  "  or  from  your  old  friend 
Colonel  Washington,  who  shook  your  hand  rather  rudely,  it  is 
-said,  when  you  last  met,"  pointing,  as  she  spoke,  to  a  scar  left  by 
Washington's  sabre.  At  the  sound  of  the  firing,  all  rushed  to  the 
door,  and  Tarleton,  mounting  his  horse,  put  himself  at  the  head  of 
his  regiment.  Just  then  the  cause  of  the  disturbance  was  made 
clear.  Lieutenant  Slocumb,  coming  upon  the  scouts  Tarleton  had 
sent  out,  had  set  upon  them  with  his  little  band,  and  was  chasing 
them  up  the  avenue  to  his  own  house,  so  intent  on  his  purpose  that 
he  saw  nothing  else.  At  this  moment,  Big  George  came  to  his 
senses,  and,  rushing  before  his  master,  shouted,  **  Hold  on,  massa ! 
de  debbil  here  !  Look  you."  Slocumb  was  already  surrounded, 
but  with  wonderful  coolness  dashed  through  the  thinnest  quarter, 
scaled  the  fences,  and,  leaping  a  canal  amid  a  shower  of  balls, 


1780.]  HEROISM    OF   NANCY   HART.  2gi 

reached  in  safety  the  shelter  of  the  wood  he  had  just  left.  The 
men  started  to  pursue,  but  Tarleton,  believing  a  large  force  to  be 
hidden  there,  sounded  the  trumpet  for  recall,  and  returned  with 
his  officers  to  the  peach-brandy  and  the  coffee.  Slocumb  lived  to 
do  good  service  thereafter. 

Nancy  Hart  of  Georgia  was  one  of  the  most  remarkable  char- 
acters of  these  stirring  times.  An  Amazon  in  stature,  her  courage, 
patriotism,  wit  and  temper  were  in  proportion  to  her  altitude. 
One  evening  she  was  at  home  in  her  log-house,  with  her  children 
sitting  around  the  fire,  over  which  a  large  pot  of  soap  was  boiling. 
As  Nancy  vigorously  stirred  the  soap,  she  dispensed  to  her  family 
the  latest  news  of  the  war,  seasoned  with  her  own  spirited  sen- 
timents. Suddenly  one  of  the  children  espied  a  face  between 
the  crevices  of  the  huge  log  chimney,  and  silently  conveyed  the 
intimation  to  his  mother.  As  her  violent  whiggism  was  known 
and  hated,  she  readily  divined  that  a  tory  spy  was  at  hand.  Rat- 
tling away  with  renewed  zeal,  giving  sarcastic  pictures  of  the  dis- 
comfiture of  the  tories,  as  she  professed  to  have  just  received 
special  intelligence,  and  meantime  stirring  her  soap  with  increas- 
ing fury,  she  waited  till  the  proper  moment  arrived,  when,  quick  as 
lightning,  she  dashed  a  ladleful  of  the  boiling  liquid  plump  through 
the  crevice,  into  the  very  face  of  the  eavesdropper.  Blinded  by 
pain  and  sudden  surprise,  he  screamed  and  roared  vociferously, 
while  the  indomitable  Nancy  amused  herself  at  his  expense,  and, 
with  jibes  and  taunts,  bound  him  fast  as  her  prisoner. 

When  the  partisan  warfare  had  become  so  hot,  and  the  tories 
so  strong,  that  whigs  were  forced  to  hide  or  swing,  and  Nancy's 
husband  had  taken  to  the  canebrake  with  the  rest,  she  still 
stood  at  her  post,  her  spirits  rising  with  the  tempest.  The 
tories  at  length  gave  her  a  call,  and,  in  true  soldier  manner, 
ordered  a  repast.  "  Nancy  soon  had  the  necessary  materials 
for  a  good  feast  spread  before  them.  The  smoking  venison,  the 
hasty  hoe-cake,  and  the  fresh  honeycomb  were  sufficient  to  have 
provoked  the  appetite  of  a  gorged  epicure.  They  simultaneously 
stacked  their  arms  and  seated  themselves,  when,  with  a  cat-like 
spring,  the  dauntless  Nancy  seized  one  of  the  guns,  cocked  it,  and, 
with  a  blazing  oath,  declared  she  would  blow  out  the  brains  of  the 
first  mortal  that  offered  to  rise,  or  take  a  mouthful.  They  all  knew 
her  character  too  well  to  imagine  that  she  would  say  one  thing 
and  do  another.  *  Go,*  said  she  to  her  son,  *  and  tell  the  whigs 
that  I  have  taken  six  base  tories.'     They  sat  still,  each  expecting 


292 


SIXTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 


LlTSO. 


to  be  offered  up,  with  doggedly  mean  countenance,  bearing  the 
marks  of  disappointed  revenge,  shame,  and  unappeased  hunger. 
Whether  the  incongruity  between  Nancy's  eyes — when  in  rage 
they  had  a  shght  obliquity — caused  each  to  imagine  himself  her 
immediate  object,  or  whether  her  commanding  attitude  and  her 
stern  and  ferocious  fixture  of  countenance  overawed  them,  or  the 
powerful  idea  of  their  non-soldierlike  conduct  or  the  certainty  of 
death  unnerved  them,  it  is  not  easy  to  determine.    They  Avere  soon 


NANCY   HART  AND  THE   BRITISH   SOLDIERS. 


relieved  from  her  glare,  but  only  to  be  dealt  with  according  to 
the  rules  of  the  times."  Another  account  of  this  transaction  states 
that  Nancy  shot  two  of  the  tories,  and  then  saying  "  shooting  was 
too  good  for  them,"  ordered  the  others  to  be  taken  to  a  tree  near 
by  and  hanged.  Nancy  Hart  rendered  several  signal  services  to 
the  patriots.  When  Augusta  was  in  the  hands  of  the  British,  and 
great  anxiety .  was  felt  concerning  their  intentions,  she  assumed 
male  attire,  and,  feigning  insanity,  went  boldly  into  the  British 
camp,  where  she  obtained  much  valuable  information  to  bring 
back  to  the  American  commander  at  Wilkes.  At  another  time, 
on  a  similar  mission,  she  walked  to  the  Savannah  River ;  made  a 


'^lyl'o!']  ATTACK    OF    HANGING    ROCK.  293 

raft  of  logs  tied  together  with  grape  vines,  crossed,  accomplished 
her  end,  and  returned  with  important  intelligence.  On  several 
occasions  she  made  single  prisoners.  Once,  having  met  a  tory, 
she  engaged  him  in  conversation,  and,  when  off  his  guard,  seized 
his  gun,  and  compelled  him  to  march  before  her  into  the  Amer- 
ican camp.  A  county  in  Georgia  now  bears  her  family  name,  and 
thus  perpetuates  her  memory. 

After  the  fall  of  Charleston  there  was  no  regular  patriot  army 
in  the  field,  but  the  partisan  bands  kept  up  the  contest.  July  12th, 
while  one  Captain  Huck,  who  was  in  command  of  a  British 
patrol  at  Cross  Roads,  was  surrounded  by  women  who  were 
vainly  begging  the  ruffian  to  spare  their  homes,  Sumter's  troop 
dashed  suddenly  into  the  street  from  both  ends,  slew  the  captain 
and  killed  or  captured  the  entire  party.  His  numbers  increasing, 
July  30th,  this  bold  leader  ventured  to  attack  the  British  sta- 
tion at  Rocky  Mount ;  but  having  no  artillery  to  batter  down  the 
log  block-house,  was  compelled  to  give  up  the  attempt.  Seven 
days  after,  he  assaulted  the  post  at  Hanging  Rock.  His  soldiers 
had,  at  the  beginning,  only  two  rounds  of  ammunition,  and  they 
would  not  have  had  even  this  but  for  the  heroism  of  two  women. 
It  had  been  stored  in  a  house  where  a  Mrs.  Thomas  resided  with 
her  daughter  and  son-in-law.  The  enemy  having  attacked  the 
dwelling,  the  three  barricaded  the  doors,  and,  the  women  loading 
the  guns,  the  man  discharged  them  so  rapidly,  and  with  such 
effect,  that  the  British,  supposing  a  force  to  be  posted  there, 
withdrew.  At  Hanging  Rock,  as  in  many  other  engagements,  the 
patriots  soon  supplied  themselves  from  the  tories  whom  they  put 
to  flight.  At  first  Sumter  carried  all  before  him,  but  his  men  be- 
coming disorganized  by  the  liquor  they  found  in  camp,  he  drew 
off  with  his  prisoners  and  booty  when  victory  seemed  just  within 
his  grasp. 

A  young  boy  not  yet  fourteen  years  of  age  took  part  in  this 
conflict.  His  name  was  Andrew  Jackson,  the  same  who  afterward 
became  the  hero  of  many  battles,  and  the  seventh  President  of 
the  United  States. 

In  the  spring,  Washington  sent  from  his  little  army  a  de- 
tachment which  he  could  ill  spare  for  the  help  of  the  South. 
The  gallant  De  Kalb  was  ordered  thither  with  two  thousand 
Maryland  and  Delaware  Continentals.  Washington  desired  that 
Greene  should  be  appointed  to  the  Southern  army,  in  place  of 
Lincoln ;  but  Congress  unanimously  designated  Gates  for  this  ser- 


294  SIXTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.         [July  25-Aug.  16. 

vice,  making  him,  moreover,  as  once  before,  independent  of  the 
commander-in-chief,  and  responsible  only  to  that  body. 

As  Gates  was  on  the  way  to  his  new  field,  he  met  General 
Charles  Lee,  who  cautioned  him  lest  his  "  Northern  laurels  should 
turn  to  Southern  willows."  But,  full  of  elation,  he  hastened  south- 
ward, vaporing  much  of  **  Burgoyning  Cornwallis,"  and  expecting 
to  end  the  war  with  another  Saratoga.  July  25th,  he  joined  the 
army  at  Deep  River.  De  Kalb  had  intended  to  march  through 
Salisbury  and  Charlotte,  a  fertile  region  abounding  in  supplies. 
Instead,  Gates  took  the  direct  route  for  Camden,  through  a  wilder- 
ness of  sand-hills  and  pine  barrens.  His  men,  eating  green  com 
and  unripe  fruit,  became  the  prey  of  disease.  Emerging  from  this 
inhospitable  country,  he  arrived  at  Clermont,  August  13th.  He 
had  only  about  three  thousand  men,  who  had  never  been  paraded 
together,  and  many  of  whom  were  raw  militia.  Full  of  conceit^ 
however,  and  supposing  that  the  enemy  would,  of  course,  flee 
before  his  terrible  name,  he  advanced  to  meet  Lord  Cornwallis, 
who  was  then  in  command  of  the  British,  Clinton  having  returned 
to  New  York. 

Singularly,  both  generals  had  appointed  the  same  time  to 
make  a  night  attack.  While  marching  for  this  purpose,  about 
half-past  one  on  the  morning  of  the  i6th,  the  advance-guards  of 
the  two  armies  unexpectedly  encountered  each  other  in  the 
woods  near  Camden.  After  some  sharp  skirmishing,  the  main 
bodies  waited  for  day.  At  dawn,  Cornwallis  ordered  a  charge. 
The  Virginia  militia  under  Stevens,  not  knowing  how  to  use  their 
bayonets,  which  they  had  received  only  the  day  before,  fled  at  the 
first  fire.  Two-thirds  of  the  army  disappeared  without  returning 
a  shot.  Amid  the  general  rout,  a  regiment  of  North  Carolinians 
under  Dixon  refused  to  flee,  and  stood  firm  with  the  Maryland 
and  Delaware  men  under  De  Kalb.  At  last,  that  Polish  veteran 
fell,  pierced  with  eleven  wounds.  His  brave  comrades  for  a  time 
fought  desperately  over  his  body,  but  were  overwhelmed  by 
numbers.  Gates,  with  no  thought  of  those  who  were  still  bravely 
contending  on  the  field  against  such  terrible  odds,  fled  with  the 
militia,  or,  as  he  said,  "  retired."  Late  that  night,  with  a  solitary 
companion,  General  Caswell  of  North  Carolina,  he  reached  Char- 
lotte. The  next  morning,  he  kept  on  to  Hillsborough,  making, 
says  Bancroft,  two  hundred  miles  in  three  days  and  a  half.  The 
''  grand  army,"  as  it  had  been  pompously  styled,  was  irrecover- 
ably scattered. 


^"^' i'tso?''^' ^']  BATTLE    OF    KING'S    MOUNTAIN.  295 

Previous  to  the  battle,  Sumter,  having  again  emerged  from  his 
retreat  in  the  swamp,  had  gone  below  Camden  with  a  strong 
detachment  from  Gates's  army  to  capture  a  convoy  of  stores 
designed  for  the  British.  In  the  midst  of  his  success,  learning  of 
the  disaster  at  Camden,  and  seeing  his  own  perilous  position  in 
the  presence  of  a  victorious  enemy,  he  retreated  up  the  river. 
But  while  he  was  taking  a  noon-day  halt  at  Fishing  Creek,  his 
men  bathing  and  cooking,  and  he  lying  asleep  in  the  shade  of  a 
wagon,  Tarleton  burst  into  the  camp,  recovered  the  plunder  and 
prisoners,  and  scattered  or  captured  his  entire  force.  Two  days 
after,  Sumter  rode  into  Charlotte  without  hat  or  saddle. 

But  other  partisans  were  more  successful.  On  the  very  day 
of  Sumter's  defeat  at  Fishing  Creek,  Colonel  Williams,  with  the 
patriots  of  Ninety-Six,  stormed  the  British  post  at  MuSgrove's 
Mill,  garrisoned  by  five  hundred  troops ;  and  the  day  Sumter 
rode  into  Charlotte,  Marion,  near  Nelson's  Ferry  on  the  Santee^ 
sprang  out  of  his  covert  upon  a  convoy  of  prisoners  from  Camden 
fight,  captured  a  part  of  the  guard,  and  rescued  one  hundred  and 
fifty  Continental  soldiers  from  a  fate  worse  than  death. 

Early  in  September,  Cornwallis  marched  into  North  Carolina 
via  Charlotte  and  Salisbury,  while  Ferguson  was  ordered  to  move 
along  the  base  of  the  mountains,  on  his  way  recruiting  the  loyal- 
ists from  the  uplands  of  South  Carolina.  Presently  the  attention 
of  the  latter  was  drawn  toward  Augusta.  Clark,  with  one  hun- 
dred riflemen,  had  there  captured  the  rich  presents  designed  to 
rouse  the  Cherokees  to  take  part  in  this  struggle.  Reinforce- 
ments from  Ninety-Six,  however,  reaching  the  British,  Clark 
beat  a  hasty  retreat,  some  of  his  men  being  overtaken.  By  the 
orders  of  Brown,  the  commander  at  Augusta,  thirteen  of  these 
were  hung,  and  as  many  given  up  to  the  Indians  to  be  toma- 
hawked or  tortured. 

Ferguson,  hoping  to  cut  off  Clark's  party,  now  pressed  closer 
to  the  mountains,  where  he  met  with  an  unexpected  obstacle. 
The  patriots,  fleeing  before  his  ruthless  advance,  had  roused  the 
free  backwoodsmen  over  the  mountains  with  the  story  of  their 
wrongs.  These  had  gathered,  each  man  with  his  trusty  rifle,  a 
bag  of  bullets,  and  a  store  of  provisions  and  powder — the  latter 
made  from  nitre  found  in  the  caves,  and  charcoal  burned  by  their 
wives  on  their  own  fireplaces.  Under  Colonels  Shelby  and 
Sevier — afterward  first  governors,  respectively,  of  Kentucky  and 
Tennessee — Williams,  Cleaveland,  McDowell,  and  Camobell,  they 


296  SIXTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [OfgJ; 

suddenly  emerged  from  the  wilderness,  bent  on  Ferguson's  de- 
struction. He  took  the  alarm,  and  hurried  eastward  toward 
Cornwallis.  The  trooper-chiefs,  selecting  nine  hundred  men  with 
the  best  horses  and  rifles,  pushed  ahead,  dismounting  only  once  in 
thirty-six  hours. 

On  the  afternoon  of  October  7th,  the  enemy  was  brought  at 
bay  on  King's  Mountain.  There  were  over  eleven  hundred,  but 
the  backwoodsmen  did  not  wait  to  count  the  odds.  Forming  into 
four  columns,  they  clambered  up  the  steep,  craggy  cliffs  from  all 
sides  at  once.  Driven  back  here  and  there  by  the  bayonets  of  the 
regulars,  they  returned  directly,  and  all  the  while  poured  in  a 
murderous  fire.  The  contest  lasted  an  hour,  when  Ferguson  fell, 
and  his  men,  despairing,  surrendered.  Four  hundred  and  fifty-six 
of  the  British  were  either  killed  or  severely  wounded,  and  six 
hundred  and  forty-eight  were  taken  prisoners.  The  American 
loss  was  only  eighty-eight  in  all.  Ten  of  the  tories,  notorious 
assassins  and  house-burners,  were  hung  by  the  enraged  moun- 
taineers. There  were  eleven  selected,  but  one  of  them  broke 
loose  as  they  were  being  led  to  execution,  and,  "  though  he  had 
to  make  his  way  through  a  thousand  of  the  best  marksmen  and 
horsemen  in  the  world,  such  was  the  unusual  admiration  or  feel- 
ing on  the  occasion,  not  one  would  lift  a  hand  to  stop  him." 
Campbell,  on  learning  of  this  summary  vengeance,  immediately 
put  a  stop  to  further  executions. 

The  hardy  sons  of  the  forest,  having  accomplished  their  pur- 
pose, quietly  returned  to  their  log-cabins  and  their  uneventful 
lives.  King's  Mountain  proved  another  Lexington  or  Bunker 
Hill.  Tarleton,  who  was  coming  to  Ferguson's  aid,  heard  of  the 
disaster  and  hastened  back  to  Cornwallis.  That  general,  with  no 
longer  any  thought  of  conquering  North  Carolina,  but  only  of 
getting  back  in  safety,  immediately  set  out  on  his  return.  Militia 
on  every  hand  beset  his  rear  and  flank.  Frequently  single  rifle- 
men would  ride  up  within  shot  of  the  British  column,  take 
careful  aim  with  their  unerring  pieces,  fire,  and  then,  wheeling, 
disappear  in  the  woods.  Troops  were  cut  off*,  and  food  became 
scarce.  For  days  before  the  army  reached  Winnsborough,  in 
South  Carolina,  two  and  a  half  ears  of  com  for  each  soldier  was 
the  only  ration. 

Marion  now  came  out  of  his  hiding-places  along  the  Pedee  and 
the  Black  Rivers,  and,  defeating  a  party  of  tories  who  were  in 
pursuit  of  him,  threatened  the  communications  with  Charleston?.. 


^?78or"]  ACTIVITY    OF    MARION    AND    SUMTER.  297 

Cornwallis  at  once  sent  Tarleton  after  him.  Delighting  in  this 
commission,  he  set  off.  His  line  could  everywhere  be  traced  by  the 
ruin  he  left  behind  him.  Groups  of  houseless  women  and  children, 
whose  homes — some  of  them  spacious  and  elegant — had  been 
burned  by  his  ruthless  orders,  clustered  about  fires  in  the  open  air, 
and  in  the  chill  November  rain.  One  lady,  the  widow  of  a  brave 
general  officer,  who  was  believed  to  have  knowledge  of  Marion's 
whereabouts,  was  actually  beaten  for  not  revealing  it,  and  left 
without  a  change  of  raiment  by  the  ashes  of  her  dwelling.  At  the 
approach  of  the  enemy,  Marion  took  to  his  covert  in  the  swamp. 
Just  then,  Tarleton  was  recalled.  Sumter  had  appeared  in  the 
Northwest,  stopping  supplies  and  defeating  a  detachment  under 
Major  Wemyss,  who  had  ventured  to  attack  his  camp  at  Fishdam, 
and  now  menaced  Ninety-Six.  Tarleton  quickly  turned  to  meet 
the  **  Game-cock."  Sumter,  being  apprised  of  this,  chose  a  strong 
post  at  Blackstock  Hill,  where  he  repulsed  the  British  attack 
with  heavy  loss.  The  patriot  chief  was,  however,  severely 
wounded,  and  his  men  retired,  carrying  their  commander  with 
them.  Marion  proved  a  source  of  constant  terror  to  the  British 
army  at  the  South.  It  is  said,  indeed,  that  Cornwallis  himself 
had  an  especial  dread  of  Marion,  and,  when  outside  of  Charleston, 
never  sat  down  in  a  strange  house,  but  always  remained  on  the 
piazza  or  under  a  tree,  that  he  might  constantly  watch  for  this 
always-to-be-expected  foe. 

No  military  movements  of  great  importance  took  place  at  the 
North  during  this  year.  A  few  marauding  excursions  only  are 
worthy  of  mention.  In  the  winter.  New  York  Bay  and  the  adja- 
cent rivers  were  frozen  over,  so  that  the  city  was  open  to  land 
attack,  artillery  being  able  to  move  anywhere  upon  the  ice.  It 
was  expected  that  Washington  would  take  advantage  of  this  op- 
portunity, but  the  condition  of  his  army  forbade.  On  the  night 
of  January  14th,  General  Stirling  attempted  to  surprise  a  British 
post  on  Staten  Island,  but  failed,  and  came  back  with  many  of  his 
men  severely  frost-bitten.  Eleven  days  after,  Knyphausen,  in 
command  at  New  York  during  the  absence  of  Clinton  in  South 
Carolina,  retorted  by  two  expeditions ;  one,  which  crossed  over 
to  Newark,  captured  a  company  of  soldiers  stationed  there,  and 
burned  the  Academy ;  and  another,  which  surprised  the  picket  at 
Elizabethtown,  plundered  the  inhabitants,  and  set  fire  to  the  church 
and  town-hall. 

The  pastor  of  the  church  which  was  destroyed  was  Rev.  James 


298 


SIXTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 


TFeb.  2, 
L  1780. 


Caldwell,  known  among  the  whigs  as  a  "  rousing  gospel  preacher," 
and  among  the  tories  as  a  ''  rebel  firebrand."  Laying  his  pistols 
on  the  desk  beside  the  Bible,  he  was  wont  at  times  strangely  to 
mingle  patriotism  with  piety.  He  was  a  great  favorite  in  the 
Jerseys.  His  bell  rang  the  alarm  when  the  enemy  approached, 
and  under  his  roof  the  militia  gathered  and  the  wounded  were 
nursed. 

February  2d,  a  detachment  set  out  by  night  from  New  York 
in  sleighs,  to  surprise  Young's  house,  near  White  Plains.     This 

was  a  stone  building  gar- 
risoned by  the  patriots, 
and  commanded  a  road 
by  which  provisions 
would  naturally  pass 
along  the  valley  of  the 
Neperan  to  New  York. 
The  snow  was  two  feet 
deep,  and  the  British 
were  finally  compelled 
to  leave  their  sleighs 
and  trudge  along  on  foot. 
The  alarm  was  given,  and 
the  Westchester  farmers 
quickly  gathered  ;  but 
after  a  sharp  skirmish, 
the  post  was  stormed 
and  the  house  fired.  The 
expedition  got  back  to 
King's  Bridge  after  an  absence  of  only  twenty-four  hours.  The 
prisoners  were  hurried  into  the  jail  and  the  sugar-house,  to  en- 
dure the  horrors  of  British  captivity.  Few  ever  returned  home. 
These  expeditions  illustrate  the  way  in  which  the  neighborhood 
of  New  York,  especially  the  Neutral  Ground,  was  constantly  har- 
ried through  the  war. 

In  the  summer  the  American  army  was  threatened  with  star- 
vation. Finally,  two  Connecticut  regiments  declared  their  deter- 
mination to  either  go  home  or  get  food  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet. 
It  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  Washington  could  induce 
them  to  return  to  duty.  In  this  emergency,  Robert  Morris  sent 
to  camp  three  million  rations.  Soldiers'  relief  associations  were 
also  organized  by  the  women  of  Philadelphia.     Those  who  had 


THE  OLD  SUGAR-HOUSE,   LIBERTY  STREET. 


"""i^so?']  KNYPHAUSEN    IN    THE    JERSEYS.  299 

money  gave  it;  the  poor  contributed  their  work.  Twenty-two 
hundred  shirts,  we  are  told,  were  thus  manufactured,  on  each  of 
which  was  inscribed  the  name  of  the  fair  maker. 

Knyphausen,  learning  of  the  disaffection  of  the  army,  with 
about  five  thousand  men,  made  a  bold  push  into  the  Jerseys. 
The  advance  landed  at  Elizabethtown  before  daylight,  June  6th. 
As  the  troops  came  to  a  fork  in  the  road,  a  solitary  sentinel  fired 
into  the  dimly-discerned  mass.  That  chance-shot  mortally 
wounded  a  British  general.  Soon  the  booming  of  heavy  guns 
and  the  flashing  of  signal-fires  spread  the  alarm  over  the  coun- 
try. The  yeomanry,  hastily  forming,  fired  upon  the  enemy  from 
behind  fences  and  trees.  The  British,  reaching  Connecticut 
Farms,  sacked  and  burned  the  town.  The  wife  of  Reverend 
James  Caldwell,  the  ''  rebel  fire-brand,"  was  deliberately  shot 
through  the  window  of  the  parsonage,  while,  it  is  said,  kneeling 
by  her  bedside,  holding  the  hand  of  her  little  child  and  engaged 
in  prayer.  After  the  army  had  passed,  the  neighbors  with  diffi- 
culty rescued  the  body  from  the  ruins  of  the  burning  building. 
The  tragical  fate  of  this  estimable  woman  raised  a  desire  for  ven- 
geance similar  to  that  produced  by  the  death  of  Miss  McCrea, 
three  years  before. 

Washington  had  now  arrived  and  taken  position  across  the 
Rahway,  and  the  troops,  which  the  British  expected  to  find 
thoroughly  demoralized,  were  standing  in  line,  ready  to  resist  the 
passage  of  the  river.  Knyphausen  recoiled  from  their  firm 
aspect.  Several  days  of  uncertainty  ensued.  Clinton  having 
returned  from  the  South,  and  threatening  a  movement  up  the 
Hudson  River,  Washington  retired  to  Rockaway  Bridge.  It 
was,  however,  only  a  feint  on  the  part  of  the  British,  and  Kny- 
phausen at  once  advanced  upon  Springfield.  Greene,  who  was  in 
command,  gallantly  defended  the  bridges  across  the  Rahway. 
On  that  day,  says  Irving,  "  no  one  showed  more  ardor  in  the  fight 
than  Caldwell,  the  chaplain.  The  image  of  his  murdered  wife 
was  before  his  eyes.  Finding  the  men  in  want  of  wadding,  he 
galloped  to  the  Presbyterian  church,  and  brought  thence  a  quan- 
tity of  Watts's  psalm  and  hymn  books,  which  he  distributed  for 
the  purpose  among  the  soldiers.  '  Now,  boys,'  cried  he,  *  put 
Watts  into  them  ! '  " 

The  advance  of  the  enemy  was  finally  checked.  Knyphausen, 
not  daring  to  hazard  the  difficult  passes  beyond,  again  aban- 
doned his  attempt.      Ere  his  troops  left  Springfield,  they  burned 


300  SIXTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [1780. 

nearly  the  entire  village.  During  the  retreat,  they  were  inces- 
santly harassed  by  the  militia,  while  Light-Horse  Harry  hung 
on  their  rear.  It  was  the  last  time  the  British  set  foot  in  New 
Jersey. 

We  now  turn  to  a  dark  page  in  the  history  of  the  War  for 
Independence.  Benedict  Arnold,  whose  bravery  at  Quebec, 
Ridgefield,  and  Saratoga  had  excited  such  universal  admiration, 
was  stationed  at  Philadelphia  while  his  wound  received  at  the 
last-named  battle  was  healing.  Though  considered  at  heart  a 
true  friend  of  the  country,  he  was  known  to  have  been  greatly 
dissatisfied  because,  in  the  early  part  of  the  war,  his  name  was 
omitted  from  the  list  of  the  first  five  major-generals  appointed  by 
Congress.  After  his  gallant  action  at  Ridgefield,  he  was  commis- 
sioned major-general,  but  was  placed  below  the  previous  five. 
Saratoga,  however,  brought  him  the  rank  he  had  claimed,  and  he 
was  supposed  to  be  content.  Having  married  a  Miss  Shippen,  a 
tory  lady  of  great  beauty  and  accomplishments,  he  launched  into 
a  style  of  living  far  beyond  his  income.  This  he  endeavored  to 
support  by  engaging  in  various  commercial  schemes,  by  pri- 
vateering speculations,  and  even  by  sharing  in  the  dishonest  gains 
of  sutlers.  Haughty  and  overbearing  in  his  manner  and  sordid 
in  his  disposition,  he  rendered  himself  exceedingly  unpopular, 
and  on  one  occasion  he  was  mobbed  in  the  streets  of  Philadelphia. 

The  council  of  Philadelphia  finally  preferred  charges  of  mis- 
conduct against  him  which  were  fully  substantiated,  and  in 
January,  1780,  he  was  sentenced  to  be  reprimanded  by  the  com- 
mander-in-chief. Washington  performed  the  disagreeable  duty 
with  exceeding  leniency,  but  Arnold  made  this  instance  of  what 
he  called  his  country's  ingratitude  a  pretext  for  treason.  It  is 
now  known  that  for  nearly  a  year  previously  he  had  been  in  com- 
munication with  the  enemy.  The  way  to  this  is  supposed  to  have 
been  paved  by  the  fact  that  Miss  Shippen,  at  her  father's  house, 
had  become  well  acquainted  with  Major  Andre,  General  Clin- 
ton's aide-de-camp,  both  having  been  prominent  characters  in 
the  famous  mischianza  pageant  at  Philadelphia.  In  the  corres- 
pondence, Arnold  used  the  pseudonym  of  "  Gustavus,"  and 
Major  Andre  that  of  **  John  Anderson." 

Bent  upon  gratifying  at  once  his  revenge  and  his  love  of 
money,  Arnold  determined  to  betray  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy 
the  fortress  of  West  Point,  then  the  most  important  position  in 
the  country,  and  the  main  depot  of  supplies.      He  accordingly 


^%io.'^']  THE    TREASON    OF    BENEDICT    ARNOLD.  30I 

secured  from  Washington  the  command  of  this  post,  on  the  plea 
that  his  wound  would  not  permit  his  undertaking  active  service. 
The  plot  being  ripe,  Arnold  requested  an  interview  with  a  "  person 
fully  authorized  "  to  arrange  the  details.  Major  Andre  accord- 
ingly ascended  the  Hudson,  and  went  on  board  the  British  sloop- 
of-war  Vulture,  then  lying  at  anchor  in  the  river.  Just  before 
dawn  on  the  morning  of  September  22d,  he  landed  at  the  foot 
of  Clove  Mountain,  where  Arnold  was  waiting  in  the  bushes 
to  receive  him.  The  two  repaired  to  the  house  of  one  Smith, 
within  the  American  lines,  where  they  remained  until  late  in  the 
day. 

The  plan  agreed  upon  was  for  Clinton  to  send  a  strong  force 
to  attack  the  works  at  West  Point,  while  Arnold  was  to  scatter 
the  garrison,  so  that  no  effective  defence  would  be  possible. 
While  their  conference  progressed,  fire  had  been  opened  on  the 
Vulture  from  a  small  battery  on  Teller's  Point,  and  she  had 
dropped  down  the  river.  Andr6  was  therefore  compelled  to 
return  to  New  York  by  land.  Furnished  with  a  pass  from 
Arnold  and  a  citizen's  dress,  he  accordingly  set  out  under  the 
guidance  of  Smith.  Everything  passed  off  well.  A  little  distance 
north  of  Pine's  Bridge,  over  the  Croton,  Smith  returned,  assuring 
Andre  that  he  would  now  meet  only  parties  of  British  marauders, 
"  Cow  Boys,"  as  they  were  called. 

Andr^,  pressing  forward,  full  of  satisfaction  over  the  result  of 
his  hazardous  undertaking,  had  nearly  reached  Tarrytown,  when 
he  was  suddenly  stopped  by  a  small  scouting  party  of  three  men, 
named  Paulding,  Van  Wart,  and  Williams.  Paulding  demanded 
which  way  he  was  going.  Expecting  to  meet  only  British  so  near 
the  lines,  Andr6  incautiously  replied,  "  I  hope,  gentlemen,  you 
belong  to  our  party."  ''Which  party?"  was  asked.  "The 
lower  party,"  answered  Andr^.  Paulding  giving  an  affirmative 
response,  Andr6  then  said,  "  I  am  a  British  officer  out  on  particu- 
lar business.  I  hope  you  will  not  detain  me  a  moment."  The 
secret  was  now  out,  and  he  was  at  once  ordered  to  dismount.  In 
dismay,  he  showed  Arnold's  pass.  At  first  this  would  have  satis- 
fied his  captors  ;  now  it  was  too  late.  Upon  searching  him,  they 
found  in  his  stockings,  among  other  papers  in  Arnold's  handwrit- 
ing, a  plan  of  the  fortifications  at  West  Point.  "  This  is  a  spy," 
exclaimed  Paulding.  Andr6  now  offered  any  sum  they  might  de- 
mand to  secure  his  release.  The  incorruptible  patriots  refused  the 
bribe,  and,  taking  him  to  North  Castle,  left  him  in  the  hands  of 


302 


SIXTH    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 


rSept.  25, 
L    1780. 


Lieutenant-Colonel  Jameson.  Having  done  their  duty,  they 
departed,  without  asking  any  reward,  or  even  leaving  their 
names.  With  inconceivable  stupidity,  Jameson  wrote  to  Arnold, 
informing  him  of  the  arrest. 

Arnold  was  at  breakfast  when  he  received  the  note.      Calling 
aside  his  wife,  he  told  her  of  his  peril.      Terrified  by  his  words. 


CAPTURE   OF   MAJOR  ANDRE. 


1 


she  fainted.  Kissing  his  boy,  who  lay  asleep  in  the  cradle,  he 
darted  out  of  the  house,  mounted  a  horse,  by  an  unfrequented 
path  reached  the  river,  jumped  into  his  boat,  and  was  rowed  to 
the  Vulture.  Here  he  basely  delivered  up  his  oarsmen  as  prison- 
ers of  war.  CUnton,  on  hearing  of  the  fact,  at  once  ordered  them 
to  be  released. 

Washington  arrived  a  few  hours  after  Arnold's  escape. 
*'  Whom  can  we  trust  now  ? "  was  his  exclamation  when  he 
received  the  startling  news.  Andr^  was  tried  by  court-martial, 
and  convicted  as  a  spy.  His  sad  fate  awakened  universal  inter- 
est, and  every  effort  was  made  to  secure  his  release.  But  the 
inexorable  laws  of  war  admitted  no  pardon.  As  a  last  favor, 
Andre  besought  that  he  might  die  as  a  soldier  rather  than  as  a 
criminal.     This,  too,  the  custom  of  both  sides  forbade.     His  letter 


Oct.  2, 
1780. 


]  EXECUTION    OF    MAJOR    ANDRE.  303 


to  Washington,  in  which  he  touchingly  preferred  this  request,  has 
been  thus  beautifully  paraphrased  by  Willis : 

"  It  is  not  the  fear  of  death 

That  damps  my  brow  ; 
It  is  not  for  another  breath 

I  ask  thee  now ; 
I  can  die  with  a  lip  unstirred. 

And  a  quiet  heart — 
Let  but  this  prayer  be  heard 

Ere  I  depart. 

**I  can  give  up  my  mother's  look— 

My  sister's  kiss  ; 
I  can  think  of  love — ^yet  brook 

A  death  like  this  ! 
I  can  give  up  the  young  fame 

I  burned  to  win  ; 
All — but  the  spotless  name 

I  glory  in. 

"Thine  is  the  power  to  give. 

Thine  to  deny, 
Joy  for  the  hour  I  live, 

Calmness  to  die. 
By  all  the  brave  should  cherish. 

By  my  dying  breath, 
I  ask  that  I  may  perish 

By  a  soldier's  death." 

The  sentence  was  executed  at  Tappan  October  2d.  Major  Tall- 
madge,  who  accompanied  him,  says,  "  When  he  came  in  sight  of 
the  gibbet,  he  appeared  to  be  startled,  and  enquired  with  some 
emotion  whether  he  was  not  to  be  shot.  Being  informed  that  the 
mode  first  appointed  for  his  death  could  not  consistently  be 
altered,  he  exclaimed,  '  How  hard  is  my  fate ! '  but  immediately 
added,  *  it  will  soon  be  over.'  I  then  shook  hands  with  him  under 
the  gallows  and  retired."  Having  been  given  an  opportunity  to 
speak,  he  simply  said,  "  I  pray  you  to  bear  witness  that  I  meet 
my  fate  like  a  brave  man." 

Much  sympathy  was  felt  for  this  unfortunate  young  officer, 
who  was  so  vastly  superior  to  the  traitor  who  was  the  cause  of  his 
ignoble  death.  Andre  was  brilliant  and  accomplished,  an  artist  and 
a  scholar.  He  had  written  some  spicy  satirical  poems  on  military 
events.  The  closing  verse  of.  one,  entitled  '*  The  Cow  Chase," 
wherein  Lee  and  Wayne  are  the  ludicrous  heroes,  runs  thus : 


304  SIXTH   YEAR   OF  THE   REVOLUTION.  [°r780?' 

"  And  now  I've  closed  my  epic  strain, 
I  tremble  as  I  show  it, 
Lest  this  same  warrio-drover  Wayne 
Should  ever  catch  the  poet." 

It  is  a  singular  coincidence  that  the  last  canto  of  this  poem  was 
published  the  very  day  of  Andre's  arrest,  and  that  General 
Wayne  commanded  the  division  of  the  army  at  Tappan,  when  the 
ill-starred  satirist  proved  his  mock  fears  to  be  sad  prophecies. 

Arnold  received,  as  the  reward  of  his  treachery,  six  thousand 
three  hundred  and  fifteen  pounds  and  a  major-general's  commis- 
sion in  the  British  army.  The  fame  of  his  gallant  deeds  was 
forever  hidden  by  the  memory  of  his  base  deceit,  and  he  was 
henceforth  despised  alike  by  Americans  and  British. 

A  curious  attempt  was  made  by  Washington  to  get  possession 
of  Arnold.  The  agent  employed  was  John  Champe,  sergeant- 
major  in  Lee's  cavalry.  His  first  step  was  a  pretended  deser- 
tion. Lee  withheld  pursuit  as  long  as  possible  without  exciting 
suspicion,  but  the  vigilant  officer  of  the  day  discovered  Champe's 
absence  almost  immediately.  Obliged  to  simulate  an  ardent 
desire  to  overtake  the  culprit,  Lee,  though  taxing  his  wits  for 
causes  of  delay,  could  not  give  Champe  more  than  an  hour's 
start.  The  chase  was  hot,  and  twice  the  fleeing  deserter  was 
nearly  in  the  clutches  of  his  pursuers  ;  but  at  last  he  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  river,  and,  swimming  for  his  life,  was  taken  on  board 
a  British  galley.  He  was  referred  to  General  Arnold,  who  was 
forming  an  American  Legion,  mostly  composed  of  renegades. 
Arnold  made  him  recruiting-sergeant,  which  ensured  him  frequent 
access  to  his  house.  A  plan  was  laid  with  two  disguised  patriots 
like  himself,  to  whom  he  had  brought  letters  of  introduction,  to 
seize  and  gag  Arnold  in  his  garden,  where  he  walked  every  night 
about  twelve  o'clock.  They  were  then  to  convey  him  to  the 
river,  as  a  drunken  companion,  and  row  him  over  to  the  Jersey 
shore.  All  was  in  readiness.  The  night  arrived,  and  Lee,  who 
had  been  kept  informed  of  affairs,  waited  with  three  dragoons,  in 
the  wood  near  Hoboken,  to  convey  the  traitor  to  camp.  Hour 
after  hour  passed,  and  no  boat  approached.  Day  broke,  and  the 
disappointed  party  went  back  alone.  A  few  days  afterward,  a 
letter  from  one  of  Champe's  associates  explained  the  failure  of  the 
plot.  Only  the  day  before  the  night  fixed  for  its  execution, 
Arnold  removed  his  quarters,  and  Champe,  instead  of  crossing 
the  Hudson  with  his  prize,  as  he  had  fondly  hoped,  was  on  board 


Oct.,  n 

I780.J 


CHAMPE  S    ADVENTURE. 


30s 


one  of  the  British  transports,  from  whence  he  never  departed 
till  Arnold  landed  his  troops  in  Virginia.  When,  at  last,  he 
effected  his  escape  and  rejoined  his  old  regiment,  his  comrades 
were  not  a  little  surprised  at  the  joyous  reception  given  him  by 
Lee.  The  truth  soon  became  known,  and  the  long-reprobated 
deserter  assumed  his  true  place  in  the  hearts  of  his  fellow-soldiers 
as  a  hero  and  a  patriot.  Lest,  in  the  vicissitudes  of  war,  he 
might  fall  into  the  enemy's  hands  and  die  on  a  gibbet,  Washing- 
ton, with  distinguished  marks  of  esteem,  gave  him  a  discharge 
from  the  service. 

At  the  close  of  the  campaign  of  1778,  Lafayette,  having  been 
granted  leave  of  absence  at  the  request  of  Washington,  returned 
to  France.  He  was  there  received  with  every  mark  of  respect 
and  consideration.  He  was  almost  immediately  called  to  the 
palace,  the  queen  being  anxious  to  hear  about  her  *'  Dear  Ameri- 
cans." "  It  is  fortunate,"  said  Maurepas,  the  minister,  **  that 
Lafayette  did  not  wish  to  strip  Versailles  of  its  furniture  to  send  to 
America."  Having  gained  a  promise  of  assistance  for  the  United 
States,  he  rejoined  Washington,  May  11,  1780.  He  brought  the 
commander-in-chief  a  commission  as  lieutenant-general  of  the 
army  of  France  and  vice-admiral  of  its  navy.  July  loth,  a  French 
fleet,  carrying  Rochambeau  and  six  thousand  soldiers,  arrived  at 
Newport.     We  shall  hear  of  them  the  next  year  at  Yorktown. 


MONUMENT  AT   TARRYTOWN. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

THE  LAST  YEJ(R   OF  THE  (REVOLUTIOJ^—1781. 


HE  value  of  the  Continental  cur- 
rency had  now  sunk  so  low  that 
it  was  said  that  a  *'  wagon-load  of 
the  scrip  would  hardly  purchase 
a  wagon-load  of  provisions,  while 
one  going  to  trade  was  forced 
to  carry  his  money  in  a  market- 
basket."  Destitute  of  food  and 
clothing,  and  without  pay  for  a 
year,  thirteen  hundred  of  the 
Pennsylvania  troops,  consisting 
principally  of  Irish  immigrants, 
encamped  at  Morristown,  broke 
Into  open  revolt  on  the  night  of  the  New-Year,  and  left  camp 
with  the  avowed  purpose  of  compelling  Congress  to  redress  their 
wrongs.  General  Wayne  confronted  them  with  his  loaded  pistols, 
but,  with  their  bayonets  at  his  breast,  they  declared,  **  We  love  and 
respect  you,  but  if  you  fire  you  are  a  dead  man.  We  are  not 
going  to  the  enemy,  as  you  would  soon  see  if  they  should  appear, 
for  we  should  fight  under  you  as  bravely  as  ever."  Clinton  sent 
his  agents  among  them  offering  heavy  bounties  for  desertion. 
The  mutineers  indignantly  replied,  '*  We  are  not  Arnolds ! "  and 
turned  them  over  to  Wayne,  who,  being  a  great  favorite,  was 
allowed  to  follow  the  march.  On  being  tendered  a  reward  for 
delivering  up  these  spies,  they  replied,  '*  We  ask  no  pay  for 
placing  our  country  above  its  enemies ;  we  only  demand  justice 
in  view  of  our  past  service  and  our  necessities." 

Reed,  then  president  of  Pennsylvania,  finally  settled  the  diffi- 
culty by  discharging  those  who  professed  to  have  served  their 
time,  the  State  making  arrangements  to  pay  and  clothe  the  re- 


1781".]  REVOLT    OF    THE    CONTINENTAL    TROOPS.  307 

mainder.  It  was  afterward  found  that  the  men  had  sworn  falsely 
as  to  their  terms  of  enlistment  in  order  to  secure  their  discharge. 

The  New  Jersey  troops,  encouraged  by  the  success  of  the 
Pennsylvania  line,  followed  the  example.  Washington  imme- 
diately marched  some  New  England  regiments  from  West  Point, 
which,  being  composed  of  "  native  Americans  and  freeholders, 
or  sons  of  freeholders,"  remained  true.  The  revolt  was  quickly 
subdued,  and  two  of  the  mutineers  were  shot,  their  own  com- 
panions being  forced  to  act  as  executioners. 

In  this  emergency,  an  agent  was  sent  to  France  in  order  to 
secure  a  loan.  Yet,  as  Bancroft  well  remarks,  that  country  was 
poorer  in  proportion  to  its  population  than  the  United  States. 
All  that  was  lacking  here  was  a  powerful  government  to  organize 
the  strength  of  the  country.  In  February,  Robert  Morris  was 
appointed  financial  agent,  and  by  freely  using  his  private  credit 
he  succeeded  in  restoring  confidence  in  the  promises  of  Congress 
to  pay  its  honest  debts.  At  his  suggestion,  the  Bank  of  North 
America  was  established,  and  by  careful  management  he  was  able 
to  redeem  its  bills  with  gold  whenever  presented. 

March  ist  of  this  year  was  a  notable  day.  Maryland,  the  last 
of  the  thirteen  States,  then  ratified  the  articles  of  confederation, 
thus  consummating  the  Federal  Union. 

The  defeat  of  Gates  at  Camden  was  fatal  to  his  ambition. 
Soon  after,  General  Greene  was  appointed  his  successor,  but 
subject  to  the  orders  of  the  commander-in-chief.  Thus,  for  the 
first  time,  was  the  true  position  of  Washington  recognized. 
Light- Horse  Harry  with  his  legion,  three  hundred  and  fifty  in 
number,  was  ordered  to  the  Carolinas.  Even  this  reinforcement 
could  ill  be  spared.  Greene,  on  his  arrival,  reorganized  the  army 
and  established  his  camp  at  Cheraw,  on  the  Pedee.  Morgan,  of 
whom  we  have  not  heard  much  since  the  brilliant  day  at  Saratoga, 
was  stationed  with  a  thousand  men  near  Broad  River. 

An  exploit  of  Lieutenant-Colonel  Washington's  now  greatly 
encouraged  the  men.  Scouring  the  country  with  a  troop  of  light- 
horse,  he  came  across  a  body  of  loyalists  under  the  tory  Colonel 
Rudgley.  They  were  strongly  posted  in  a  large  log  barn,  fortified 
by  entrenchments  and  an  abattis.  Knowing  the  weak  character 
of  his  opponent,  Washington  fixed  a  pine  log — shaped  and  painted 
to  look  like  a  field-piece — on  the  front  wheels  of  a  wagon,  dis- 
mounted part  of  his  troops  to  appear  like  infantry,  displayed  his 
cavalry,  leveled  the  deadly  pine-cannon  on  the  log  castle,  and 


308  THE    LAST    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [''fysiJ' 

then  sent  in  a  flag  demanding  instant  surrender.  The  affrighted 
colonel  begged  for  quarter,  and  surrendered  his  garrison  of  one 
hundred  and  twelve  men  at  discretion.  Cornwallis,  mentioning 
the  event  in  a  letter  to  Tarleton,  dryly  added,  ''  Rudgley  will  not 
be  made  a  brigadier." 

In  order  to  cut  off  Morgan,  whose  activity  threatened  his 
flank,  Cornwallis  ordered  Tarleton  to  attack  him  in  front,  while  he 
marched  northward  between  the  Broad  and  the  Catawba  Rivers^ 
and  severed  his  communications  with  Greene.  Morgan  awaited 
Tarleton's  coming  at  the  Cowpens,  so  called  because  of  an  enclo- 
sure at  that  place  used  by  the  neighboring  farmers  for  herding 
their  cattle,  which  in  that  mild  climate  roamed  wild  through  the 
fields  during  the  entire  year.  Before  daylight  on  the  morning 
of  January  17th,  being  informed  by  his  spies  that  Tarleton  was 
near,  he  awakened  his  men,  breakfasted,  and  then  put  them  quietly 
in  post.  The  British  coming  on  impetuously,  the  militia  who 
were  in  Morgan's  front  line  yielded  after  a  sharp  resistance.  The 
Continentals,  however,  stood  firm.  Being  at  length  outflanked 
by  the  superior  numbers  of  the  enemy,  they  fell  back  to  take  a 
new  position.  The  English,  thinking  the  day  their  own,  rushed 
forward,  when,  suddenly,  the  Americans  faced  about,  poured  in  a 
terrible  volley  at  only  thirty  yards  distance,  and  then  charged 
with  the  bayonet.  The  British  were  driven  pell-mell.  Lieuten- 
ant-Colonel Washington,  with  his  cavalry,  kept  up  the  pursuit  for 
twenty  miles.  In  the  eagerness  of  the  chase,  he  got  far  in  advance 
of  his  regiment,  when  three  officers  wheeled  upon  him.  Wash- 
ington owed  his  life  to  a  sergeant  who  wounded  one,  and  a  little 
waiter-boy  who  shot  a  second.  Tarleton,  the  third,  is  said  to 
have  been  wounded  by  Washington  himself 

This  defeat  was  a  source  of  great  mortification  to  Tarleton. 
He  was  occasionally  reminded  of  it  in  a  very  disagreeable  manner. 
At  one  time,  after  having  indulged  in  much  braggart  talk  about 
his  own  gallantry,  he  remarked  to  a  whig  lady :  "  I  should  like  to 
see  your  far-famed  hero.  Colonel  Washington."  *' Your  wish, 
Colonel,  might  have  been  fairly  gratified,"  was  the  prompt  reply, 
''  had  you  ventured  to  look  behind  you  after  the  battle  at  Cow- 
pens."  A  still  more  pointed  retort  was  given  him  by  a  Mrs.  Jones, 
to  whom  he  observed,  "  I  have  been  told  that  Colonel  Washington 
is  so  ignorant  a  fellow  that  he  can  hardly  write  his  own  name." 
''Ah,  Colonel,"  she  replied,  "  but  no  one  knows  better  than  your- 
self that  he  can  make  his  mark." 


•'f7"8i.^']  BATTLE    OF    COWPENS.  309 

The  American  loss  at  Cowpens  was  only  seventy-two,  while 
that  of  the  English  exceeded  eight  hundred,  besides  material  of 
war.  Cornwallis,  hearing  of  the  disaster,  put  his  troops  in  light 
marching  order,  burned  the  baggage,  himself  setting  the  example, 
and  started  in  hot  haste  to  punish  the  victors  and  recapture  the 
prisoners.  Morgan,  anticipating  this,  had  destroyed  what  booty 
he  could  not  carry  off,  and  was  already  in  full  march  for  the 
Catawba.  So  keen,  however,  was  Cornwallis's  pursuit  that  the 
Americans  had  but  just  crossed  the  river  when  the  British  van  ap- 
peared on  the  opposite  bank.  That  night  it  rained  heavily,  and 
the  water  rose  so  high  that  the  impatient  Cornwallis  was  kept 
waiting  till  the  third  day. 

Meanwhile  Greene  joined  his  faithful  lieutenant,  and  took  com- 
mand. The  main  body  of  his  army  was  ordered  to  meet  him  at 
Guilford  Court-House,  to  which  point  he  now  hurried  Morgan's 
men.  At  the  Yadkin,  just  at  eve,  February  3d,  the  British  advance 
was  again  on  his  heels ;  but  during  the  night  the  rain  made  the 
river  unfordable.  Heaven  smiled  on  the  patriots  and  they  took 
heart.  Cornwallis  lost  two  days  in  going  up  the  river  to  find  a 
crossing.  He  was  soon,  however,  again  in  full  pursuit.  Now 
began  a  race  on  parallel  roads  for  the  fords  of  the  Dan — seventy 
miles  away.  Colonel  Williams,  with  the  flower  of  the  light  troops, 
covered  the  march.  Greene  reached  the  river  first,  and  on  the 
15  th  of  February  Cornwallis  arrived  only  to  find  that  the  Amer- 
ican rear-guard  had  crossed  in  the  darkness  of  the  night  before. 
Every  face  in  the  patriot  army  was  lighted  with  joy  when  their 
escape  was  certain.  Halting  only  for  one  meal  per  day,  sleeping 
but  six  hours  in  forty-eight,  with  only  a  blanket  for  four  men, 
shoeless  and  ragged,  they  had  fairly  beaten  the  enemy  by  out- 
running him.  Greene  himself,  in  his  all-comprehensive  care  of 
the  army,  had  hardly  slept  four  hours  in  as  many  days. 

One  night  during  this  famous  retreat,  Greene  alighted  at  the 
Salisbury  inn,  after  a  hard  day's  ride  through  mud  and  rain. 
The  army  physician,  who  had  charge  of  the  sick  and  wounded 
prisoners,  met  him  at  the  door,  and  inquired  after  his  well-being. 
"  Fatigued,  hungry,  cold,  and  penniless,"  was  the  heavy-hearted 
reply.  The  patriotic  landlady,  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Steele,  overheard 
the  words.  Lighting  a  cheerful  fire,  she  spread  a  warm  supper 
before  him,  and  then,  quietly  producing  two  bags  of  specie,  her 
hoarded  treasure,  '*  Take  these,"  she  said  ;  "  you  will  want  them, 
and  I  can  do  without  them."      It  is  hard  to  decide  which  was 


3IO 


THE  LAST  YEAR  OF  THE  REVOLUTION. 


TFeb.  17-25, 


1781. 


the  happier,  the  noble-hearted  giver  or  the  relieved  receiver. 
Cheered  and  comforted,  Greene  renewed  his  journey  with  a 
lightened  heart. 

The  troops  lay  panting  on  the  opposite  sides  of  the  river  for  a 
day.     Cornwallis  then  fell  back  to  Hillsborough.     The  waving  of 


MRS.    STEFXE   AND   GENERAL   GREENE. 


a  handkerchief  by  a  patriot  woman,  under  the  cover  of  the  oppo- 
site bank,  was  the  signal  which  announced  his  retreat.  The 
tables  were  then  quickly  turned.  Light  troops  at  once  recrossed 
the  Dan,  and  Greene  himself  soon  took  the  field.  The  British 
general  wished  to  force  him  to  battle,  but  for  seven  days  Greene 
eluded  him,  each  night  changing  his  camp,  though  at  no  time 
over  ten  miles  distant.  Lee  and  Pickens  constantly  scoured  the 
country,  covering  Greene's  movements,  obtaining  accurate  intel- 
ligence, and  repressing  the  royalists.  While  hunting  Tarleton 
through  the  woods  beyond  the  Haw  River,  they  fell  in  with  a 
body  of  three  hundred  tories,  who  mistook  them  for  the  British. 
Lee  rode  down  their  line,  congratulated  them  on  their  appear- 
ance, grasped  their  colonel  by  the  hand,  and  was  about  to  explain 


'^1781.^']  BATTLE    OF    GUILFORD    COURT-HOUSE.  311 

the  true  state  of  the  case,  and  demand  that  they  should  go  to 
their  homes  or  join  the  patriots,  when  firing  suddenly  broke  out. 
Lee  was  forced  to  charge,  and  ninety  of  the  royalists  were  cut 
down,  some  of  them  while  crying,  "  We  are  your  friends.  God 
save  the  king." 

March  15th,  Greene,  being  reinforced,  determined  to  give 
Cornwallis  battle  near  Guilford  Court-House.  He  had  about 
three  thousand  six  hundred  men,  nearly  twice  as  many  as  his 
antagonist,  but  a  large  part  were  raw  militia.  The  Americans 
were  drawn  up  in  three  lines,  several  hundred  yards  apart ;  the 
first  being  composed  of  North  Carolina  volunteers,  the  second  of 
Virginia  riflemen,  and  the  third  of  Continentals.  The  British  at 
once  advanced  to  the  charge.  Half  of  the  militia  broke  without 
firing  a  shot.  Lee  and  Washington  only,  on  the  flanks,  stood 
their  ground  long  after  the  centre  of  their  line  was  occupied  by 
the  enemy.  The  second  line,  riflemen  used  to  backwoods  fight- 
ing, held  their  position  bravely  till  driven  from  it  by  the  bayo- 
net. The  Continentals  fought  stubbornly.  At  last  the  right 
seemed  weakened,  and  Greene,  not  wishing  to  hazard  anything, 
brought  up  his  reserve  to  cover  the  retreat.  The  English  were 
too  exhausted  to  pursue.  The  American  loss  was  four  hundred 
and  nineteen,  and  the  British  five  hundred  and  seventy  men. 
That  night,  with  true  generosity,  the  English  cared  for  the 
wounded,  friend  and  foe  alike.  But  they  were  scattered  through 
the  woods,  and  the  rain  fell  in  torrents.  Fifty  sufferers  died 
before  morning. 

Now  was  exhibited  a  strange  spectacle.  The  conqueror  fled 
from  his  own  victory.  Cornwallis  had  lost  over  one-quarter  of 
his  men,  and  was  forced  to  retreat  with  his  weakened  army.  He 
accordingly  retired  toward  Wilmington,  whence,  unwiUing  to  fall 
back  into  the  Carolinas,  he  concluded  to  march  into  Virginia  and 
join  the  British  troops  already  in  that  State.  Greene  decided  not 
to  follow  him,  but,  leaving  Virginia  to  its  fate,  to  reconquer 
South  Carolina. 

Lord  Rawdon,  in  command  of  the  British  in  that  State,  was  at 
Camden,  and  thither  Greene  turned  his  course.  Having  en- 
camped on  Hobkirk's  Hill,  only  a  mile  from  the  enemy,  he  was 
attacked  before  he  was  fairly  in  position.  He  quickly  made  his 
arrangements,  but  a  regiment  in  the  centre  giving  way  unac- 
countably, he  was  driven  from  his  ground  before  Colonel  Wash- 
ington, who  with  the  cavalry  was  to  fall  on  the  enemy's  rear, 


312  THE    LAST    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  ['^'"''/fe""®' 

could  reach  the  spot.     Greene  retired  as  usual,  but  not  before 
inflicting  a  greater  loss  than  he  received. 

Meanwhile,  the  partisan  leaders  were  busy.  Marion  and  Lee 
laid  siege  to  the  fort  on  Wright's  Bluff.  Having  no  cannon,  in 
one  night  they  built  a  tower  of  logs,  from  the  top  of  which  the 
riflemen  picked  off"  the  garrison,  and  so  forced  a  surrender,  April 
26th.  This  capture  cut  the  communications  of  Camden  with 
Charleston,  and  the  former  post  was  thereupon  evacuated.  They 
then  attacked  Fort  Motte,  on  the  Congaree.  The  British  had 
here  fortified  and  garrisoned  the  house  of  Mrs.  Motte,  an  estima- 
ble whig  woman.  In  order  to  dislodge  the  enemy,  she  brought 
to  Lee  a  bow  and  a  quiver  of  Indian  arrows,  with  which  he  threw 
fire  upon  the  shingled  roof.  The  occupants  could  not  fight  the 
flames  under  the  guns  of  the  sharp-shooters,  and  were  soon 
roasted  into  a  capitulation.  A  little  story  is  attached  to  the 
quiver  of  arrows  which  did  such  effective  service.  Mrs.  Brew- 
ton,  who  was  a  guest  of  Mrs.  Motte's,  had  caught  it  up  in  the 
moment  of  their  forced  departure,  knowing  it  to  be  a  valued 
keepsake  in  the  family.  As  she  was  passing  through  the  gate, 
Major  McPherson,  drawing  out  a  shaft,  applied  it  to  his  finger, 
saying,  "What  have  you  here,  Mrs.  Brewton?"  "For  God's 
sake,  major,  be  careful,"  she  replied  ;  "  those  arrows  are  poi- 
soned." It  so  chanced  that,  when  applied  to  the  purpose  after- 
ward decided  upon,  the  first  one  missed  its  aim  and  fell  at  the 
feet  of  the  major.  He  took  it  up,  angrily  exclaiming,  "  I  thank 
you,  Mrs.  Brewton."  After  the  surrender,  he  immediately  sought 
her  out,  and  said,  "  To  you,  madame,  I  owe  this  disgrace  ;  it 
would  have  been  more  charitable  to  allow  me  to  perish  by  poison, 
than  to  thus  compel  me  to  surrender  my  post  to  the  enemy." 

Forts  Orangeburg  and  Granby  now  yielded.  Augusta  was 
taken  by  Lee  and  Pickens  the  5th  of  June.  Greene,  in  person, 
endeavored  to  carry  Ninety-Six  by  assault,  but  was  repulsed, 
and  Rawdon,  receiving  reinforcements,  came  to  its  rescue. 
Events  then  took  the  turn  so  common  in  Greene's  experience. 
He  retired  as  far  as  the  Ennoree,  when,  the  British  giving  over 
the  pursuit,  he  followed  them  back,  with  Lee's  Legion  close  on 
their  heels,  captured  forty-eight  dragoons  within  a  mile  of  their 
camp,  and,  June  i8th,  offered  Rawdon  battle,  which  he  declined. 
Greene  then  fell  back  to  the  "  benign  hills  of  Santee,"  as  Lee 
lovingly  calls  them,  to  recruit  his  army. 

Greene,   after  leaving   Ninety-Six,   wished    to    communicate 


Au 


%^'^']  EXECUTION    OF    COLONEL    HAYNE.  313 

with  Sumter,  but  the  intervening  country  was  full  of  tories,  and 
no  one  was  willing  to  undertake  the  perilous  mission.  At  this 
moment  a  young  German  girl,  Emily  Geiger  by  name,  volun- 
teered for  the  service.  Greene  entrusted  her  with  a  letter,  at  the 
same  time  informing  her  of  its  contents.  Mounted  on  a  swift 
horse,  she  had  made  one  day's  journey  and  was  near  the  close  of 
the  next,  when  she  was  hailed  by  two  tories,  who  arrested  her  on 
suspicion.  While  confined  in  a  room,  awaiting  the  woman  who 
was  sent  to  search  her  person,  she  tore  up  the  letter  and  swal- 
lowed it  piece  by  piece.  Nothing  being  discovered  by  the  ma- 
tron's careful  investigation,  she  received  many  apologies  for  her 
detention,  and  was  allowed  to  proceed.  Thanks  to  Greene's  cau- 
tion in  acquainting  her  with  the  import  of  the  written  message, 
she  was  able  to  give  Sumter  the  desired  information,  and  Rawdon 
was  soon  flying  before  the  Americans  toward  Orangeburg. 

Disgusted  with  the  ill-success  of  his  plans,  that  officer,  on  the 
pretence  of  poor  health,  soon  returned  to  England.  His  last  act 
in  Charleston  did  much  to  embitter  the  feelings  of  the  inhabitants 
of  that  city.  At  the  time  of  its  capture  by  the  British,  Colonel 
Isaac  Hayne  was  paroled.  He  was  afterward  ordered  into  the 
British  ranks,  at  a  time  when  his  wife  and  several  of  his  children 
lay  at  the  point  of  death  with  small-pox.  The  choice  was  given 
him  to  become  a  loyal  subject  or  to  be  placed  in  close  confine- 
ment. Agonized  by  thoughts  of  his  dying  family,  he  signed  a 
pledge  of  allegiance  to  England,  with  the  assurance  that  he  should 
never  be  required  to  fight  against  his  countrymen.  Being  again 
summoned  by  Lord  Rawdon  to  join  the  British  army,  he  con- 
sidered the  pledge  annulled,  and  raised  a  partisan  band.  He 
was  captured,  and,  without  being  allowed  a  trial,  was  condemned 
to  die.  The  citizens  of  Charleston  vainly  implored  pardon  for 
him.  He  was  allowed  forty-eight  hours  in  which  to  take  leave  of 
his  children,  at  the  end  of  which  time  he  was  hanged.  This  bar- 
barous act  left  a  stain  on  Rawdon's  memory  which  time  has  only 
deepened.  Retaliation  was  urgently  demanded ;  but  the  other 
British  officers  did  not  countenance  his  inhumanity,  and  milder 
measures  prevailed. 

Colonel  Stewart,  left  in  command  of  the  British,  took  post  at 
Eutaw  Springs,  where  Greene  attacked  him  September  8th. 
Marion,  Pickens,  Sumter,  Lee,  Williams,  Campbell,  and  Washing- 
ton won  new  honors  on  this  desperately-fought  field.  The  British 
were  finally  fairly  beaten.      In  the  moment  of  victory,  Campbell 


314 


THE    LAST    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 


rSept., 
L|78l. 


fell.     Informed  of  the  patriots'  success,  he  exclaimed,  like  Wolfe 
at  Quebec,  *'  I  die  contented." 

On  their  retreat,  however,  one  party  of  the  enemy  took 
refuge  in  a  brick  house,  and  another  in  a  wood  of  barren  oaks. 
Cannon  were  brought  against  the  former,  but  the  gunners  were 
quickly  picked  off  by  riflemen ;  Colonel  Washington,  rashly 
charging  the  latter  without  waiting  for  the  infantry,  was  wounded 
and  captured,  and  half  his  men  fell  in  the  useless  struggle. 
Stewart  during  the  delay  rallied  his  fugitives,  and  Greene  reluc- 


Washington.  Pickens.  Morgan. 

Lee.  SumtM'. 

THE   PARTISAN  LEADERS   OF  THE  SOUTH. 


tantly  dre.w  off  his  men.  One-quarter  of  the  American  army  and 
one-fifth  of  the  British  were  killed  or  wounded.  Both  sides 
claimed  the  victory.  That  night,  however,  the  English  retired  to 
Charleston. 

During  the  retreat.  Manning,  a  noted  soldier  of  Lee's  legion, 
was  in  hot  pursuit  of  the  flying  British,  when  he  suddenly  found 
himself  surrounded  by  the  enemy  and  not  an  American  within 
forty  rods.  He  did  not  hesitate,  but,  seizing  an  officer  by  the 
collar,  and  wresting  his  sword  from  him  by  main  force,  kept  his 
body  as  a  shield  while,  under  a  heavy  fire,  he  rapidly  backed  off 
from  the  perilous  neighborhood.     The  frightened  British  officer, 


ifeW]  ARNOLD'S    INVASION    OF    VIRGINIA.  315 

when  thus  summarily  captured,  began  immediately  to  enumerate 
his  titles:  ''  I  am  Sir  Henry  Barry,  deputy  adjutant-general,  cap- 
tain in  Fifty-second  regiment,"  etc.,  etc.  "  Enough,"  interrupted 
his  captor,  "  you  are  just  the  man  I  was  looking  for." 

While  Colonel  Washington  was  lying  helpless  under  his  fallen 
horse,  a  soldier  was  about  to  bayonet  him,  when  Major  Majora- 
banks  rushed  forward  and  saved  his  life.  The  gallant  officer  was 
himself  afterward  wounded,  and  died  en  route  to  Charleston.  A 
marble  monument,  erected  as  a  tribute  to  a  generous  enemy  by 
the  Ravenels,  on  whose  plantation  he  was  buried,  now  marks  the 
spot.  The  flag  borne  by  Washington's  troop  at  this  battle  is  still 
preserved,  and  was  carried  by  the  Washington  Light  Infantry 
of  Charleston  at  the  Bunker  Hill  Centennial  celebration,  June 
17,  1875. 

Greene  had  now  been  in  command  only  nine  months,  but  he 
had  recovered  all  the  South  except  Savannah,  Charleston,  and 
Wilmington.  He  had  not  gained  a  decided  victory ;  yet  his 
defeats  had  all  the  effect  of  successes,  and  his  very  retreats 
strengthened  the  confidence  of  his  men  and  weakened  that  of  the 
enemy.  In  his  own  words,  he  was  always  able  "  to  fight,  get 
beaten,  and  fight  again." 

Anxious  to  distinguish  himself  and  burning  with  hatred,  the 
traitor  Arnold  early  led  an  expedition  into  Virginia.  January  2d, 
he  appeared  in  Chesapeake  Bay.  The  State  had  no  troops  to  im- 
pede his  advance,  with  generous  self-forgetfulness  having  sent  her 
best  soldiers  to  the  help  of  her  Southern  sisters.  At  Guilford 
Court-House,  nearly  twenty-five  hundred  of  her  men  had  helped 
to  stay  the  tide  of  British  aggression.  Arnold  having  burned 
Richmond  without  opposition,  Lafayette  was  sent  with  twelve 
hundred  men  to  check  his  progress.  General  Phillips,  arriving 
from  New  York  with  a  heavy  reinforcement,  took  Arnold's  place, 
and  the  work  of  devastation  went  on  more  vigorously  than  ever. 
Lafayette,  with  his  small  force,  could  do  little.  His  men  being 
fearful  of  the  climate,  he  offered  any  who  wished,  a  permit  to  go 
home  ;  but  not  one  would  leave  him.  A  soldier,  unable  to  keep 
up  with  the  march,  hired  a  cart  lest  he  might  seem  to  have  de- 
serted. At  Baltimore,  Lafayette  borrowed  money  to  supply  his 
men  with  shoes  and  hats,  and  to  purchase  linen,  which  the  loyal 
women  of  that  city  made  up  into  summer  garments  for  them. 
Phillips  died,  and  Cornwallis  arriving  from  the  Carolinas,  Arnold 
was  sent  back  to  New  York. 


3l6  THE    LAST    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [^fg]'; 

In  September,  Arnold  was  detached  against  Connecticut,  his 
native  State.  New  London  was  pillaged  and  burned,  the  traitor 
himself,  it  is  said,  watching  the  fire  from  a  church  steeple.  Fort 
Griswold  was  carried  by  assault.  Colonel  Ledyard,  the  com- 
mander, after  a  brave  resistance,  ordered  his  men  to  lay  down 
their  arms  ;  but  still  the  slaughter  did  not  cease.  "  Who  com- 
mands here  ?  "  called  out  Major  Bromfield,  a  New  Jersey  tory,  as 
he  entered  the  works.  "  I  did,"  said  Ledyard,  handing  him  his 
sword,  "but  you  do  now."  With  fiendish  malignity,  he  seized 
the  weapon  and  plunged  it  into  the  bosom  of  the  heroic  colonel. 
Seventy  of  the  garrison  were  slain  and  thirty -five  wounded.  The 
yeomanry  of  the  country  were  fast  rising,  and  Arnold  retreated  to 
his  boats  to  escape  their  vengeance. 

With  this  barbarous  scene  ended  his  career  in  this  country. 
Execrated  by  his  former  friends  and  loathed  by  his  new  com- 
panions, even  children  learned  to  lisp  his  name  with  a  shudder. 
It  is  said  that  while  on  his  predatory  excursions  in  Virginia,  there 
being  at  one  time  a  chance  of  his  capture,  he  asked  an  officer, 
"  How  will  the  rebels  treat  me,  do  you  think,  should  I  fall  into 
their  hands?"  "  Pardon  my  frankness,"  was  the  reply,  "  but  they 
will  probably  cut  off  the  leg  that  was  wounded  in  storming  our 
lines  at  Saratoga,  and  bury  it  with  the  honors  of  war  ;  having  no 
respect  for  the  rest  of  your  body,  they  will  undoubtedly  gibbet 
it."  He  carried  to  England  a  letter  of  introduction  from  Sir 
Henry  Clinton  to  Lord  Germain,  but,  although  he  was  patronized 
by  George  III.,  he  received  abundant  proofs  of  contempt  from 
high-spirited  noblemen.  At  one  time.  Lord  Surrey  rose  to  speak 
in  parliament  when,  his  eye  resting  on  Arnold,  he  drew  himself 
proudly  up,  and,  pointing  to  the  traitor,  exclaimed,  "  I  will  not 
speak  while  that  man  is  in  the  house  !  "  It  is  also  related  that,  on 
being  introduced  to  Earl  Balcarras,  the  proud  old  Briton  refused 
his  hand,  saying,  as  he  haughtily  turned  away,  "  I  know  General 
Arnold,  and  I  abominate  traitors  !  "  Many  other  stories,  true  or 
false,  are  current,  but  all  agree  in  showing  how  the  blighting  curse 
of  his  treason  followed  him  to  his  death.  "  He  saw,"  says  Lester, 
"  the  infant  republic  he  had  betrayed,  emerge  from  the  gloom  of 
her  long  struggle  into  wealth,  power,  and  splendor ;  and  left  it 
advancing  on  to  empire  as  he  went  darkling  down  to  a  traitor's 
grave.  He  died  in  1801,  somewhere  in  the  wilderness  of  London. 
Where  he  was  buried,  nobody  has  told." 

Cornwallis   reached   Petersburg  May   20th.      Never  at  rest. 


'^Y78"'i!"^']  CORNWALLIS    IN    VIRGINIA.  317 

though  his  army  had  marched  at  least  fifteen  hundred  miles  from 
their  starting-point  in  South  Carolina,  within  four  days  after  his 
arrival  he  took  the  field  against  Lafayette.  Despising  the  youth 
and  inexperience  of  his  adversary,  he  wrote  to  England,  *'  The 
boy  cannot  escape  me."  The  marquis,  however,  retreated  from 
Richmond  across  the  Rapidan,  where  he  was  reinforced  by 
Wayne  with  the  Pennsylvania  troops.  Comwallis  gave  up  the 
chase  at  Hanover  Court-House,  and  contented  himself  with  send- 
ing out  a  couple  of  detachments. 

Tarleton,  with  his  cavalry,  attempted  the  capture  of  the  Vir- 
ginia Legislature  at  Charlottesville  ;  but  the  members  received 
news  of  his  coming,  and  all  except  seven  escaped.  Governor 
Jefferson  had  not  been  absent  from  his  mansion  at  Monticello  ten 
minutes  when  the  dragoons  dismounted  at  the  door.  Simcoe, 
who  was  second  only  to  Tarleton  as  a  dashing  partisan  leader, 
was  directed  to  seize  the  stores  collected  at  the  Point  of  Fork. 
By  judiciously  spreading  his  men  over  the  neighboring  hills,  he 
deceived  Baron  Steuben,  who  was  stationed  there  with  about  six 
hundred  new  levies,  into  the  belief  that  the  whole  British  army 
was  at  hand.  The  baron  accordingly  decamped  hastily,  and  the 
English,  crossing  the  river,  destroyed  the  stores. 

Cornwallis  now  placed  himself  between  Lafayette  and  the 
magazines  at  Albemarle  Old  Court-House.  But  the  Marquis, 
during  the  night,  opened  what  was  known  as  the  "  Rogues'  Road  " 
— a  wilderness  path,  by  which  absconding  debtors  had  been  wont 
to  escape  to  the  South — and,  before  morning,  had  taken  a  strong 
position,  where  he  could  defend  the  place.  Cornwallis  then 
turned  toward  Williamsburg.  Here  he  received  orders  from 
Clinton  to  send  three  thousand  men  to  New  York,  as  there  were 
great  fears  that  Washington,  by  the  aid  of  the  French  fleet  and 
troops  at  Newport,  would  attack  that  city.  Setting  out  July  4th, 
for  Portsmouth,  the  royal  army  reached  the  Jamestown  ford. 
Ordering  only  the  advance  to  cross,  Cornwallis  hid  his  main  camp 
back  of  the  woods  and  morasses,  and,  by  means  of  deserters,  gave 
the  impression  that  merely  the  rear-guard  remained  on  the  left 
bank.  Wayne  fell  into  the  snare,  traversed  a  narrow  log  cause- 
way, and  attacked  the  enemy.  The  whole  British  army  sprang 
up  before  him,  and  he  was  at  once  outflanked.  "  Mad  Anthony," 
seeing  his  peril,  sounded  the  charge,  and  dashed  forward  with 
headlong  courage.  Lafayette  came  to  his  rescue.  The  enemy, 
overawed  by  the  apparent  confidence  of  the  Americans,  feared  a 


3l8  THE    LAST    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [^^^§•^* 

stratagem,  and  dared  not  pursue.  The  Americans  fell  back  to 
Green  Springs,  and  Cornwallis  continued  on  to  Portsmouth  un- 
molested. 

Clinton,  having  received  reinforcements  from  England,  coun- 
termanded the  order  for  troops  from  Virginia,  and  directed  Corn- 
wallis to  establish  an  entrenched  camp  at  some  central  point  which 
would  form  a  nucleus  for  future  operations.  The  army  was  ac- 
cordingly transferred  to  Yorktown  and  Gloucester,  where  fortifi- 
cations were  rapidly  thrown  up. 

During  this  midsummer  campaign,  Cornwallis  had  traversed 
the  rich  fields  of  Virginia,  plundering  houses,  burning  farms  and 
fences,  devastating  crops,  seizing  horses  and  slaves,  and  inflicting 
a  total  loss  of  fifteen  million  dollars. 

The  French-American  army  under  Washington  and  Count  de 
Rochambeau  was  now  encamped  at  Dobb's  Ferry.  Every  effort 
was  put  forth  to  prepare  for  a  combined  attack  upon  New  York. 
While  he  had  maintained  a  bold  front  before  Clinton,  Washington 
had  really,  however,  been  baffled  on  every  hand.  At  one  time 
there  were  only  two  thousand  men  in  camp,  a  number  less  than 
that  of  the  tories  then  in  the  British  service.  There  was  danger 
of  even  this  small  force  being  disbanded  for  lack  of  provisions. 
All  the  American  fleet  had  been  destroyed  except  two  frigates, 
*'  Hancock,"  says  Bancroft,  "  was  vain  and  neglectful  of  business, 
while  the  president  of  Pennsylvania  was  more  ready  to  recount 
what  the  State  had  done  than  what  it  meant  to  do."  Morris  now 
once  more  came  to  the  rescue.  By  giving  his  own  notes  for  one 
million  four  hundred  thousand  dollars,  he  obtained  funds  for  the 
outfit  of  the  troops  for  the  summer  campaign. 

The  news  of  the  departure  from  San  Domingo  for  the  Chesa- 
peake of  Count  de  Grasse,  with  a  fleet  of  twenty-five  ships-of- 
the-line  and  several  thousand  troops,  put  a  new  phase  on  affairs. 
The  very  day  Cornwallis  arrived  at  Yorktown,  Washington  re- 
solved to  transfer  the  allied  army  to  Virginia.  To  the  last  the 
fiction  was  kept  up  of  a  movement  upon  New  York.  Recon- 
noissances  were  made,  boats  prepared,  and  ovens  set  up  on  the 
New  Jersey  shore.  On  the  19th  of  August  the  troops  were 
paraded  with  their  faces  toward  King's  Bridge,  when  they  were 
wheeled  to  the  right-about,  and  began  their  march  southward. 
Soon  all  the  roads  leading  to  King's  Ferry  were  alive  with  the 
gleam  of  arms,  the  tramping  of  men,  and  the  heavy  rumbling  of 
wheels.     Clinton  had  captured  a  letter  from  Washington  inform- 


^"^' ^78i?''^' ^']  INVESTMENT    OF    YORKTOWN.  319 

ing  Congress  of  his  plans  for  taking  New  York,  and  so  much  was 
it  relied  upon  that  the  British  general  thought  these  movements  a 
ruse  to  throw  him  off  his  guard.  At  Philadelphia,  Morris  could 
strain  his  credit  no  more,  and  actually  borrowed  of  Rochambeau 
twenty  thousand  dollars  in  hard  money  to  put  the  American  troops 
in  good  humor  for  their  long  march.  While  en  route,  Washing- 
ton rode  forward  with  Rochambeau  and  Chastellux  at  the  rate  of 
sixty  miles  per  day,  and  so  secured  time  to  stop  at  Mount  Vernon 
three  days.     It  was  his  first  visit  home  in  over  six  years. 

The  net  was  fast  weaving  about  the  unsuspecting  Cornwallis. 
August  30th,  Count  de  Grasse  cast  anchor  within  the  capes  of  the 
Chesapeake.  September  5th,  the  English  fleet  appearing  off  the 
coast,  the  French  immediately  offered  battle,  and  inflicted  such 
a  loss  that  the  enemy  sailed  back  to  New  York.  De  Barras  took 
advantage  of  this  opportunity  to  slip  in  with  the  French  transports 
from  Newport  containing  the  artillery  for  the  siege.  On  the  28thy 
the  allied  army,  sixteen  thousand  strong,  drove  in  the  outposts 
and  sat  down  before  the  entrenchments  of  Yorktown.  That  night 
Washington  lay  in  the  open  air  under  a  mulberry  tree,  its  root 
serving  for  a  pillow.  October  5th,  trenches  were  opened  within 
six  hundred  yards  of  the  enemy's  line — the  French  on  the  left  and 
the  Americans  on  the  right. 

In  the  allied  camp  there  were  the  utmost  harmony  and  good- 
will. The  French  were  universal  favorites,  and  everything  was 
cheerfully  sacrificed  for  them — the  guests  of  the  nation — while 
their  officers,  by  the  wise  provision  of  Louis  XVI.,  were  all  made 
to  act  under  the  orders  of  Washington. 

The  town  was  bombarded  night  and  day.  Governor  Nelson 
commanded  the  battery  that  opened  first  upon  the  British.  Corn- 
wallis  and  his  staff  were  at  that  time  occupying  the  governor's 
fine  stone  mansion.  The  patriot  pointed  one  of  his  heaviest  guns 
directly  toward  the  house,  and  ordered  the  gunners  to  play  upon 
it  with  spirit.  The  vessels  in  the  harbor  were  fired  with  red-hot 
shot.  For  a  time  the  English  replied  with  great  vigor.  One  shell 
fell  near  Baron  Steuben,  who,  leaping  into  a  trench  to  avoid  its 
effects,  was  closely  followed  by  Wayne.  The  latter  stumbling  as 
he  jumped,  fell  squarely  upon  his  superior  officer.  Steuben,  whose 
ready  wit  never  deserted  him,  gave  Wayne  not  a  moment  for 
apology,  but  remarked,  *'  My  dear  sir^  I  always  knew  you  were 
a  brave  officer,  but  I  see  you  are  perfect  in  every  point  of  duty ; 
you  cover  your  general's  retreat  in  the  best  manner  possible." 


320 


THE    LAST    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION. 


root.  14. 
L     1781. 


On  the  14th,  two  advanced  redoubts  were  taken  by  assault — one 
by  the  Americans  and  the  other  by  the  French,  in  generous  rivalry. 
The  former  were  led  by  Lieutenant-Colonel  Hamilton,  who  volun- 
teered for  the  honor,  and  was  the  first  to  mount  the  rampart.  The 
men  did  not  wait  to  remove  the  abattis,  but  scrambled  through  as 
best  they  could,  and,  without  firing  a  gun,  swept  all  before  them. 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Laurens  turned  the  entrenchment,  and  with 
his  own  hand  captured  the  commandant.  Every  man  who  asked 
it  obtained  quarter,  although  the  news  of  the  massacre  at  Fort 
Griswold  had  just  been  received.  The  battalion  of  Gatinois  was 
at  the  head  of  the  French  column.  It  had  been  formed  from  a 
regiment  which   had  won  the  name  of  U Auvergne  sans  tache — 

Auvergne  without  a  stain — and  when 
Rochambeau,  who  had  been  their  old 
leader,  assigned  them  their  post,  they 
said  they  would  die  to  a  man  if  their 
former  title  might  be  restored  to  them. 
The  French  stopped  under  fire  to 
have  the  sappers  remove  the  obstruc- 
tions. Then  they  leaped  forward, 
and  to  the  cry  of  ^'  Vive  le  Roi  I  "  swept 
the  redoubt.  Within  six  minutes  the 
task  was  done.  **  On  that  night,"  says  Holmes,  ''  victory  twined 
double  garlands  around  the  banners  of  France  and  America." 

Washington,  standing  in  the  grand  battery  with  Generals 
Knox  and  Lincoln,  was  an  intensely  excited  spectator  of  these 
assaults.  One  of  his  aides-de-camp,  uneasy  lest  harm  might  come 
to  him,  ventured  to  observe  that  the  situation  was  very  much  ex- 
posed. "  If  you  think  so,"  replied  he,  gravely,  *'  you  are  at  liberty 
to  step  back."  Shortly  afterward,  says  Irving,  a  musket-ball 
struck  the  cannon  in  the  embrasure,  rolled  along  it,  and  fell  at 
his  feet.  General  Knox  grasped  his  arm.  "  My  dear  general," 
exclaimed  he,  ''  we  can't  spare  you  yet."  "  It  is  a  spent  ball," 
replied  Washington,  quietly  ;  "  no  harm  is  done."  When  all  was 
over,  and  the  redoubts  were  taken,  he  drew  a  long  breath,  and, 
turning  to  Knox,  observed,  "  The  work  is  done,  and  well  done." 
Then  he  called  to  his  servant,  "  William,  bring  me  my  horse." 

The  same  night  both  redoubts  were  included  within  the 
second  parallel.  Two  days  after,  the  English  made  a  sally,  but 
were  driven  back  pell-mell.  As  a  last  resort,  Comwallis  attempted 
to  ferry  his  men  across  by  night  to  Gloucester,  hoping  to  break 


Washington's     *  ' 
Bead  Quarters  ■•*' 


Ajnerican  1^ 

Oen.Knox. 
J-^Biead  Quarters 


Oct.  19,1 
1781.  J 


SURRENDER    OF    CORNWALLIS. 


321 


through  the  lines  there,  and  escape  over  the  country  to  New  York. 
A  part  of  his  army  had  crossed,  when  a  storm  scattered  his  boats 
and  put  an  end  to  this  daring  scheme.  One  hundred  heavy  can- 
non were  now  playing  upon  every  part  of  the  works,  which  were 
already  so  damaged  that  hardly  a  gun  could  be  used  in  reply. 
An  assault  was  imminent.  Nothing  was  heard  from  Clinton,  who 
had  promised  aid  by  the  5th.  There  was  no  other  resource,  and 
on  the  19th  Cornwallis  capitulated. 

The  scene  of  the  surrender  was  imposing.  It  was  arranged 
that  General  Lincoln  should  accept  the  submission  of  the  captive 
general  exactly    as   his  own   had   been  received    at  Charleston 


SURRENDER   OF  CORNWALLIS  AT  YORKTOWN. 


eighteen  months  before.  The  allied  forces  were  drawn  up  on  op^ 
posite  sides  of  the  road  for  over  a  mile,  the  French  on  the  left  and 
the  Americans  on  the  right.  Washington  and  Rochambeau,  each 
with  his  staff,  stood  at  the  head  of  his  army.  The  English,  about 
seven  thousand  in  number,  marched  between  the  lines,  with  slow 
step,  shouldered  arms,  and  cased  colors.  With  deep  chagrin  and 
sullen  look,  the  officers  gave  the  order  to ''ground  arms";  the 
men  throwing  down  their  guns  as  if  to  break  them,  until  General 
Lincoln  checked  the  irregularity.  Every  eye  was  turned  to 
catch  a  sight  of  Cornwallis,  but,  vexed  and  annoyed,  he  feigned 
sickness,  and  sent  his  sword  by  the  hand  of  General  O'Hara. 
21 


322  THE    LAST    YEAR    OF    THE    REVOLUTION.  [,%*[; 

"  From  Yorktown's  ruins,  ranked  and  still, 
Two  lines  stretch  far  o'er  vale  and  hill : 
Who  curbs  his  steed  at  head  of  one  ? 
Hark  !  the  low  murmur :  Washington  ! 
Who  bends  his  keen,  approving  glance 
Where  down  the  gorgeous  line  of  France 
Shine  knightly  star  and  plume  of  snow? 
Thou  too  art  victor,  Rochambeau ! 

"  The  earth  which  bears  this  calm  array 
Shook  with  the  war-charge  yesterday  ; 
Ploughed  deep  with  hurrying  hoof  and  wheel, 
Shot  down  and  bladed  thick  with  steel ; 
October's  clear  and  noonday  sun 
Paled  in  the  breath-smoke  of  the  gun  ; 
And  down  night's  double  blackness  fell, 
Like  a  dropped  star,  the  blazing  shell. 

"  Now  all  is  hushed  :  the  gleaming  lines 
Stand  moveless  as  the  neighboring  pines; 
While  through  them,  sullen,  grim,  and  slow. 
The  conquered  hosts  of  England  go  : 
O'Hara's  brow  belies  his  dress, 
Gay  Tarleton's  troop  ride  bannerless : 
Shout,  from  thy  fired  and  wasted  homes, 
Thy  scourge,  Virginia,  captive  comes  ! " —  Whittier. 

The  very  day  the  capitulation  was  signed,  Clinton  sailed  from 
New  York  with  the  promised  reinforcement.  He  reached  the 
capes  of  Virginia  on  the  24th,  when,  learning  of  the  disaster,  he 
returned  crestfallen. 

Tidings  of  the  surrender  reached  Philadelphia  at  the  dead 
of  night.  The  people  were  awakened  by  the  watchman's  cry, 
"  Past  two  o'clock,  and  Cornwallis  is  taken ! "  Lights  flashed 
through  the  houses,  and  soon  the  streets  were  thronged  with 
crowds  eager  to  learn  the  glad  news.  Some  were  speechless 
with  delight ;  many  wept ;  and  the  old  door-keeper  of  Congress 
died  of  joy.  Congress  met  at  an  early  hour,  and  that  afternoon 
marched  in  solemn  procession  to  the  Lutheran  church  to  return 
thanks  to  Almighty  God.  The  day  after,  Washington  ordered 
Divine  service  to  be  held  at  the  head  of  the  regiments  on  account 
of  the  "particular  interposition  of  Providence  on  their  behalf." 

Notwithstanding  the  great  provocations  which  had  been  given 
by  Cornwallis  and  his  officers,  they  received  only  consideration 
and  respect  at  the  hands  of  their  conquerors.  But  nothing  could 
atone  to  the  fallen  British  general  for  the  mortification  of  his  de- 


1781-1783.]  END    OF    THE    WAR.  323 

feat.  One  day,  when  he  was  standing  with  his  hat  off  in  presence 
of  Washington,  the  latter  kindly  observed  :  "  My  lord,  you  had 
better  be  covered  from  the  cold."  "  It  matters  not  what  becomes 
of  this  head  now,"  was  the  bitter  reply. 

Lord  North  received  the  news  as  he  would  '*  a  cannon-ball  in 
his  breast."  He  paced  the  room,  tossing  his  arms,  and  crying, 
"  O  God  !  it  is  all  over ! "  The  hope  of  subduing  America  was 
now  abandoned  by  the  people  of  England,  and  they  loudly  de- 
manded the  removal  of  the  ministers  who  still  counseled  war. 
The  House  of  Commons  voted  that  whoever  advised  the  king  to 
continue  hostilities  should  be  considered  a  public  enemy.  Early 
in  May,  1782,  Sir  Guy  Carleton  arrived  in  New  York  with  prop- 
ositions for  a  reconciliation  between  the  two  countries. 

The  struggle  which  commenced  in  Massachusetts  had  now 
closed  in  Virginia.  With  the  surrender  at  Yorktown,  the  war 
was  virtually  at  an  end.  The  American  armies  still,  however, 
kept  the  field,  and  various  minor  skirmishes  occurred.  Greene's 
men,  without  regular  food,  clothing  or  pay,  held  the  British 
closely  confined  in  Charleston ;  while  Wayne  guarded  the  garri- 
son in  Augusta  with  watchful  vigilance.  In  August,  1782,  Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel Laurens  was  killed  at  Combahee  Ferry  while 
resisting  the  advance  of  a  foraging  detachment  from  Charleston. 
The  last  blood  shed  in  the  Revolution  is  said  to  have  been  that  of 
Captain  Wilmot,  in  September,  during  a  skirmish  at  Stono  Ferry. 

Preliminary  articles  of  peace  were  signed  at  Versailles,  No- 
vember 30,  1782.  In  order  to  give  England  time  to  adjust  her 
difficulties  with  France,  the  final  treaty  was  not  executed  until 
September  3d  of  the  following  year.  Meanwhile,  on  April  19th, 
the  eighth  anniversary  of  the  battle  of  Lexington,  which  began 
the  war,  Washington,  at  the  headquarters  of  the  army,  officially 
proclaimed  its  close.  Charleston  had  been  evacuated  by  the 
British,  December  14,  1782,  and  Savannah,  July  11,  1783.  The 
English  troops  were  then  collected  at  New  York  from  all  points. 
On  November  25th — a  cold,  frosty  day — the  British  army  and  the 
refugees  embarked  in  boats  for  Staten  and  Long  Islands,  prepara- 
tory to  taking  ship.  The  same  morning,  General  Knox,  who  had 
come  down  from  West  Point  with  some  American  troops,  entered 
the  city  from  the  Bowery.  At  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
they  took  possession  of  Fort  George,  upon  the  Battery,  amid  the 
shouts  of  the  crowd  and  the  roar  of  the  guns. 

Soon  after,  Washington  and  his  staff  and  Governor  Clinton 


324  END    OF    THE    WAR.  [1781-1783. 

and  suite  made  a  formal  entry ;  the  commander-in-chief  taking  up 
his  headquarters  at  Fraunces's  Tavern — a  house  still  standing  on 
the  corner  of  Pearl  and  Broad  streets.  Here,  December  4th, 
Washington  bade  farewell  to  his  principal  officers.  It  was  a 
tender,  touching  scene.  Passing  thence,  he  set  out  to  offer  his 
commission  to  Congress.  When  he  entered  the  barge,  and,  bid- 
ding adieu  to  the  assembled  multitude,  disappeared  from  sight, 
the  War  of  the  Revolution  ceased  and  a  new  epoch  dawned. 


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